I Kissed A Girl
by HolyMoly
Summary: Santana comes out to her family, but will she be accepted? Pre-empt of events to come in 3x07.
1. Hide and Seek

**Authors note: Just my musings on what may or may not happen in episode 3x07 and nope, I don't own Glee. Story told from Santana's p.o.v... **

Whenever I felt down as a kid I used to gaze intently at the ceiling for hours on end. I would pretend my eyes could see past the plaster and paint and into the infinite and wonderful universe, where my worries and troubles suddenly became insignificant. I've since learned that the world isn't so wonderful and that trying to look past the surface of things doesn't solve anything; it only makes things worse. Hell I looked into my soul, unleashing a love I didn't realise I could ever feel and look where that got me: laying flat on my back staring at the ceiling once again.

I've recently adopted the habit of studying its patterns and crevices, as if they held some secret code which could solve all the problems in my life. If I stare hard enough I swear I can see the shape of a hand reaching out to me but as soon as it appears it vanishes; strangled by shadows. I scrunch up my eyes and ball my hands into fists, a subconscious defence mechanism resulting from years of hiding behind a tough façade. _Gosh pull yourself together San. Don't you know that seeing things is the first sign of madness?_ "But then again so is speaking to yourself" I voice bitterly, rolling onto my side. Why must I always feel so _goddamn_ lonely?

It didn't take me long in life to realise that no one else spent their childhood like I did, trying to look past things, as no one can see through me. Not my teachers, my so-called friends; not even my parents. That's when I met Brittany: the only person smart enough to figure me out. As my thoughts wandered to my best friend as they so often did I reached for my phone, almost dialling the number that had become second nature to me but then I remembered. Brittany was out having a meal with her family and who am I to disrupt that, claiming her attention as if I could ever be included as one of them? I can't even call her what she is: _my girlfriend_.

I sigh, when did everything get so complicated? Was it when I kissed my best friend for the first time on a cold November night, caught up in a rush feeling and colour, our hearts exploding together like the fireworks that crashed above our heads? Or when I deluded myself into believing that sex wasn't dating? Sometimes I think it started even before all of that, when our eyes locked for the first time, light to dark, sealing our fate tighter than a pinkie-lock. Maybe its because I'm so afraid of losing that, the sacred symbol of friendship, no _love_, that has defined us for so many years that I can't bring myself to hold her hand; can't bring myself to make the transition between friends and girlfriends. After all it's only when you've got what you want that you have something to lose. I've had to live with that my whole life, the fear of losing something I mean, except now it's not only my reputation I need to protect.

I'm really trying though. The other night at Breadstix I _did_ hold her hand, even if it was under a napkin. That's the thing about being with Brittany, she makes everything so _easy_. It's only when we're apart that my insecurities take over and I find myself hiding my feelings, not behind a flimsy piece of paper that the world could see through if they took the time, but rather back in the impenetrable secured vault that is my heart. It's not until I'm back in her arms with her flowing through my blood once more that the lock can be broken.

Struck with a sudden inspiration I lean over my bed, reaching under it; hands sweeping the well worn path that I find myself travelling down whenever I need to feel whole again. I pull the worn photo album onto my lap, showering myself with sparkles as my fingertips brush across the unicorn Brittany had drawn on its surface with glitter glue. Smiling, I open its cover; my life literally flashing past my eyes as I flick through the pages which pretty much document every memory Brittany and I have ever shared.

My eyes are drawn to a really old photo of us (we must have been about 7) trying on my mothers clothes: me holding an oversized handbag and trying to balance in a ridiculously high pair of heels; Brittany holding me up, lipstick and blusher smeared through her hair. It makes me feel a bit sad to see how fast we had wanted to grow up- now all I want to do is slow down. I'm not sure what it was about the picture that caught my attention so much but the more I looked at it, the more the memory started flooding back…

"_Brittany! Don't you dare let go of me" I threaten, as she mockingly steps away from me so that I lose my balance, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. "I would never really leave you San, you know that." I smile; it was too hard to pretend to be annoyed with her for long. "Yeah, yeah now help me out of these heels otherwise my death is on your hands." Brittany did so obediently, withholding the fact that if I fell and died it would be my own fault for putting them on in the first place. _

_We're almost done when I hear the front door below us slam and a tell tale creaking of footsteps climbing the stairs. "Oh no that must be mum - she'll kill us if she finds out what we've been doing!" The panic in my voice is mirrored in Brittany's face as she expectantly searched me for an answer, a solution. I was always the one who made the decisions. _

_I did all that I could do; grab her hand and pull her into the closet with me, shutting the door behind us. "Jesus it sure is cramped in here", I complain, my voice muffled by the hanging clothes. "When I'm older I'm going to have a walk in wardrobe that's so big that I won't even need a house and even the one in that movie we watched the other day can't compare!"_

"_Ohhhh I loved The Leopard the Werewolf and the Wardrobe!" She fell silent for a moment, having lost her original train of thought whilst I stifled a laugh, not having the heart to correct her. Such Brittany-isms were one of my favourite things about her. "But Santana, why would you want to live in a closet" she continued. "Wouldn't you get lonely? Even if it concealed a magical realm like Narnia, what would be the point if you had no one to share it with? Besides it would get super cold." I feel my brow creasing as I try to understand her logic. Brittany has such an honest, pure way of viewing the world that it's sometimes hard for me to decipher._

"_But that's why I'd have you there with me Britt. It will be big enough for both of us to live in and we can cuddle for warmth, there may even be room for Lord Tubbington if you're lucky…" I tease her, knowing how much she loves that mangy cat. _

"_I still don't get it… you should never want to shut yourself in San, you deserve the world to see you."_

I guess I forced Brittany to live in a closet with me after all, I thought darkly as I turned away the page, no longer able to look at it. Why did I have to be so selfish? Angry at myself I resume flicking through the pages, somewhat too roughly as I feel the edge tear beneath my hands – yet another thing destroyed by me.

I run my index finger tenderly over the torn picture; a black and white shot of me and Britt kissing that we had taken using a webcam we had previously been using to record ourselves practising for whatever ridiculous cheer Sue had planned at the time. Of course we had soon given up with that, boredom leading us to our favourite pastime – sweet lady kisses. Brittany had her eyes open, boldly staring down the lens of the camera whilst mine were squeezed shut, as if opening them would reveal a crowd of slushie- bearing football players, poised and ready to extinguish the flame of passion that burned between us.

Underneath the photo, the caption _I kissed a girl and I liked it _stood out to me. Engraved into the paper for eternity it screamed for me to accept myself; to accept that like it, my sexuality was unchangeable, permanent. As I pondered this, my door suddenly opened, causing me to jump from panic and shock and in a flurry of Spanish curses I slam the album shut.

"Just thought I'd let you know I'm home now…" all of a sudden my mum stood in front of me, her tanned skin and dark, concealing eyes identical to mine. The only difference between us was the lines across her face that told the story of her life, both the sadness and the joy. My face on the other hand was a smooth mask, devoid of such signs as to let myself show my emotions and live, _truly live_, was just too painful most of the time. "… what are you doing?" she added suspiciously, noticing my stiff stance and the way my arms were thrown protectively over the album on my lap.

_Just keep it cool, act natural. She doesn't know anything, you weren't doing anything **wrong**. _

"Oh nothing much… just looking at some old photos of Britts and I…" Which was the truth, even if it didn't come out as nonchalantly as I would've liked? "Brittany is such a lovely girl, haven't seen her around her much lately…" A simple enough statement but I didn't like its underlying questioning tone, challenging me to take the bait and clarify why that was. _Oh just because we're in a secret relationship that I'm hiding from you. _"Well we've just been really busy lately… what with cheerios practise and everything!" -Again partially true._ Calm down Santana she doesn't know anything… _

"So nothing has _changed_ between you then?" I couldn't bring myself to look at her but I could feel her eyes boring into me. I snap. "What is this, some sort of interrogation? Cos' I aints buying it." I could feel my bitch act take over and there was no way of stopping it now. "Me and Brittany are **best friends**." – A lie. "Satisfied?"

If I wasn't already uncomfortable enough my mum walked across the room and sat beside me, a level of intimacy I wasn't used to. What could've spurred this on? "Santana…" my mother began, with a 'give it up' look in her eyes that brought back memories of my childhood. Memories of when we used to play hide and seek and I would peer at her from my hiding place, clearly not as well hid as I had thought. That was a long time ago, before life got in the way of us and we lost ourselves in the void that keep filling with the words we never said to one another and all the time that we spent apart. "I saw you two the other night, when Brittany, erm, _walked_ you to the door…" I had always assumed that after all those years she had given up on trying to find me; turns out she never stopped looking.

I froze, blushing furiously as I tried to hide my face; my lips tingled at the thought of that doorstep encounter.

_Brittany had driven me home after our date at Breadstix; the word 'date' and the anxiety and excitement it brought still flying through my head as she pulled up next to my house. A comfortable silence had surrounded us for a long time, that is until now, when the engine abruptly spluttered to a halt, breaking the spell and leaving a new kind of silence, one that I didn't like; one that I could feel pressing against me, urging me to say something - but I couldn't speak._

_We got out and walked side by side up the path, our arms lightly brushing, each touch setting my heart on fire. For each thud of our footsteps my pulse matched a dozen fold. Our date was coming to an end and I could feel my breathing become more erratic and I felt the pressure rising; felt the need to say 'I'm no longer scared' or 'next time you hold my hand we'll be walking down the corridors of Mckinley' – but I couldn't lie to Brittany as much as I didn't want to hurt her. I just wanted this night to have been perfect for her._

_Suddenly we were at my door with no where else to walk. I fumbled with my keys rolling my eyes at how cliché I must have looked. Didn't this kind of thing only happen in movies? "Santana…" The sound of Brittany's soft voice speaking my name cured all my symptoms of worry and before I could respond she was leaning in until soon there was nothing between us. In that moment it was as if my mind had been paralysed; nothing made sense to me save for the taste of strawberry lip smackers and the feeling that I was home – and that had nothing to do with standing right outside my door. _

_I could feel Brittany's warm breath on my skin as in between kisses she whispered Best – First – Date - Ever. _

Were it not for the shifting of weight beside me as my mum stood up to leave I would've happily stayed daydreaming forever. "Mum…" I hesitantly call after her, knowing that I should say something, that I may never get the chance again. She stops in the doorway to look back at me and in the moment our eyes lock more was said between us than had been in years. They said to me not to worry, I don't have to say anything until I'm ready, that everything will work out in the end, that she _saw_ me.

As she closed the door behind her I let out a breath I didn't even realise I was holding. My whole body was shaking but for the first time not with fear, but with relief. My secret was out and the world was still turning. I had confided in someone, even if it was unintentionally and wasn't freaking out – I had to tell Brittany. As if on queue my phone vibrates revealing 1 new message:

_My dad ordered shrimp and I thought of you all night._

_I love you. B._

_xxx_

I read the text with a massive reserved-for-Brittany smile plastered all over my face, doing all I can not to laugh or cry. How is it those 3 simple monosyllabic words can elicit so much emotion? Feeling as though I'm about to burst I rush to call her back, dying to tell her that my mum knew about us. That maybe we were going to be alright after all.

**A couple more chapters to come, Santana still needs to face school and her dad – the road to acceptance is a long one! Let me know what you think – remember if you want to read more I run on reviews. **

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	2. Steps In The Right Direction

**Note: Wow 2 chapters in 2 days? That's a record for me. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/ alerted or even just read this. The more of you there are the more likely I'm going to keep updating this quickly!**

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><p>I open my locker with a clang, yesterday's phone call still resounding in my head:<p>

"_Hey San! You're so sweet, you didn't have to call me back but seeing that you have I'm glad as I have sooo much to talk to you about…"_

_I usually loved to listen to Brittany's adorable rambling but tonight there was a more pressing issue at hand so I take a deep breath and cut her off -"Britt. My mum knows. She saw you the other night, you know, walking me to my door…"_

_There is a pause. The silence is unbearable and I'm about to scream when Brittany replies guiltily, "Oh my god. I am so so sorry, I should've tried to hide it better...you know how clumsy I am and, well it just kind of fell and broke!"_

_Up until that point I thought Brittany had talking about her feelings but now I was confused. "Wait, what are you talking about?" I hear Brittany shuffle nervously on the other end of the line before she continues, "Well after we kissed goodnight I was left feeling like all the butterflies that were driving my insides crazy and so I thought if I jumped around a bit I could set them free… I know now that skipping down a garden path in darkness is never a good idea as I kind of smashed your mum's favourite plant pot…"_

_I could tell Brittany was anxious for me to forgive her but instead of condolences all I could give her was my laughter. Typical, instead of being worried that my mum had caught her making out with her daughter she was more concerned about a stupid plant? _

"_San are you alright?" _

_I was in hysterics. I must've sounded crazy. It really shouldn't have been that funny but my emotions were all over the place. "Sorry" I sniff, "No Britt, don't worry about that, what I'm trying to say is that she knows... about **us**."_

"_Oh right… oh that's much worse…or is it? I don't know." I could almost feel Brittany's confused pout through the phone line. _

_I smile, "I don't know either Britt, I mean she didn't outright accuse me of anything and she wasn't angry, I just got the feeling that deep down she knew and she was just waiting until I was ready to tell her myself…that's a good sign right?" I ask suddenly unsure. _

"_Totally! My mum was the same. When I told her I was in love with you she wasn't even surprised, which kinda freaked me out, it's like she has ESPN or something."_

"_I think you mean ESP Britt..."_

"_Yeah that, but then I figured mums must just have a special connection to their children, like an invisible tether, where all their secret thoughts and feelings are automatically shared, binding them together forever."_

"_Like us?" I hate the slight quiver in my voice giving away all my insecurities._

"_Yeah like us."_

I offload my books into my locker with a sigh, everything had passed in a blur since then and it's almost time for glee practise already. I can't believe I had agreed to come out to them all today; I blame hormones - stupid love sick teenager hormones. I'm pretty sure that caught up in the moment last night I would've agreed to do anything, even jump of a cliff, or worse, pay Rachel Berry an honest compliment.

I go to close the door, Brittany's drawing catching my eye -

_ Lord Tubbington thinks your Purrfect… _

…_And so do I_

I scrutinise myself in a mirror I had set up to stand on the back wall of my locker; ever preoccupied with appearances. _Perfect?_ I wish I could believe that and just for once see myself through her eyes, with love and affection. But I wasn't ready. I'm about to turn away when I see a pair of blue eyes looking back at me, Brittany's face resting tenderly on my shoulder. "Hey you" she whispers, rubbing my arms in a comforting gesture. "You ready?"

Sometimes I swear Brittany can read minds.

"Sure" I reply, pulling her towards me in a tight hug, lingering in the embrace longer than usual as if to prove to myself that this was true. When we pull apart we're standing so close that if I inched forwards slightly I could brush the tip of Brittany's nose with my own. Or even tilt my head until our lips met, which I almost did. _Almost_.

But then Brittany was moving away and I was barely aware that she was pulling me along with her and even less aware of where we where headed until we were there. I hesitate at the door of the choir room and peer through the window, scanning the rows of familiar faces expectantly, but it was no use. I frown, "Look Brittany you go on, there's just erm… something I have to do first."

I feel the grip on my pinkie tighten as if urging me to stay. I watched Brittany's eyes dart over mine in panic and it breaks my heart to think that she would believe that I could desert her. But can I blame her? I'd done it before.

"I promise I'll be right behind you."

And then there I was, walking away again.

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><p>But this time I didn't go very far. In fact I found what I was looking for less than a five minute walk away, sitting under the bleachers; cigarette in hand and wearing a vacant expression, one that I had often worn myself, one that screamed <em>please just let me disappear<em>. Under the surface of things however I knew that all she really wanted was to be was found, why else hide in such an obvious place? I guess in this way we had a lot in common. I used to think we were only bound to each other by the red and white stripes of our uniform but now, looking at Quinn in her scruffy jeans and worn cardigan I could see this wasn't true.

We were bound by our pasts, the choices we've made and above all, by loneliness.

She looked to the floor for comfort whilst I looked to the ceiling – I'm not really sure which of our methods were better, wanting nothing more than a grounded life or striving for something unattainable?

Our friendship hasn't been an easy one, mostly because we're so alike. We see our own flaws in each other, which makes it hard not to feel hatred sometimes and ironically not to feel love. She had taken to skipping rehearsals lately but it's not like I have a right to judge - I had abandoned the New Directions not so long ago and for a more selfish reason. Were it not for Brittany and her darn pouts and long wistful looks whenever we passed the choir room I would never have returned - I'm a sucker for those looks. Truth is when it comes to Brittany I'm no longer the top bitch but rather right at the bottom of the pyramid, my sole purpose being to hold her, support her and give her anything she wants.

That's why I'm here. Brittany wants us to share our love with the world and so I will…one step at a time – starting with Quinn, the third and completing member of the unholy trinity; the only thing that mattered in our worlds for so long and the first person who deserves to be told. The person who without I won't have the confidence to come out to the rest of the glee club.

"Sorry to barge in on your pity party but your coming with me to Glee." I stare down at her, arms crossed, chin in the air defiantly. With me and Quinn such power plays were an innate part of our dynamic and if I wanted her to take me seriously now I needed to show her I was in charge even though, looking down at her deflated form, all I wanted to do was hug her right now.

"Now why would I do that?" her soft voice which used to sound like spun sugar now only sounded sad.

Suddenly I was nervous. _Was I really doing this?_

"The thing is me and Britt have some… er, big news, that we want everyone to hear… so that includes you." I stated carefully, testing her for a reaction before I confessed completely.

"Oh have you two finally eloped? How nice, make sure to call me when you have lady babies."

I was stunned. Literally speechless. She knew? How did she know? I was starting to sound like a broken record.

"But… how… you know?" I splutter, completely thrown and unsure of how to continue.

"I was your best friend once remember. I saw all those secret smiles and glances, the touch of a hand, the brush of a leg… I once caught you tenderly holding her in the locker room, brushing the blood and sweat from her hair after Sue had literally ran us into the ground during practise. I didn't think you had it in you to be so caring so I knew it must be love." For an instant I though I saw a glimmer of emotion in her eyes before it disappeared once more. What was that, affection, pity, acceptance?

Still shocked I was having trouble processing my thoughts let alone formulating a coherent sentence. "Oh… well… yeah, Britt and I are together and we're planning to announce it to the glee club today and I want you there." There I said it. I had actually asked for her help.

"Oh give it up Santana. Do you really think that just like that they're going to accept you? Love you? You, the hateful bitch that had so often made their lives hell?"

That was it. She had gone one step too far.

"You don't know me anymore Q, hell you don't even know yourself. Look at you. Look at what's become of your life. Just because you're angry that your child will no longer accept you it doesn't mean the whole world works like that – I'm not you!" I practically scream at her.

All of a sudden we were crying. Holding on to each other like it was the first day of cheerio's practise when neither of us wanted to be the first to fall off the top of the pyramid.

Quinn pulls apart first, laughing softly "Look at us Santana, the two most popular girls in school crying under the bleachers, feeling sorry for themselves. Who would've thought? It's pathetic."

I sniff stiffly as I wipe the last tear from my face, "Hey speak for yourself stretch marks!" I retort, the grin on my face giving away the affection behind my words. "Things could be worse…" I continue. "At least you don't have that disgusting pink hair anymore, it was hideous. I mean what were you thinking?"

"Oh shut up' Quinn laughs, her voice still ragged from crying. We were enveloped in a comfortable silence until Quinn spoke sadly again, barely loudly enough for me to hear. "A teen mum who's gone of the rails versus a secret lesbian love affair… I don't know which one of us wins."

"We can both win if you come back to glee."

I surprised myself at how confident my voice sounded. I sounded so determined, so _sure_. "As much as we both hate to admit it, those losers are out only true friends and they can help us if we just let them. Life has dealt us a rough hand but we still get to play the last card. What do you say?"

"First of all I say that you need to stop getting your inspirational pep talks off the back of a cereal box, not even Finn would say something as corny as that."

I suddenly felt my temper rising and anger and frustration bubbled inside me. "Fine Fabray, you know what, mock me all you want; it's your life. I came here to find you because I can't go through with this on my own… I _need_ you. But if you just going to throw all that back in my face well then f…"

I was cut off mid curse by Quinn standing up, her hand outstretched to me. "Come on; let's knock Rachel off her high horse by showing them the hottest bitches in town are back. And as for the whole Brittany business… there's nowhere I'd rather be than by your side when you tell that Flanagan freak to back off of your girl."

With Quinn next to me everything felt normal again, like the good old days when we walked down the corridors as if we owned the place, needing nothing else but the support of one another. It was only when we turned the corner to the choir room that I was hit again by the fact that nothing about this was normal – I was about to confess to being a… no I cant even bring myself to say it… about to confess to being _in love_ with Brittany in front of a room full of people. My life will never be normal again.

I close my eyes, willing the world to stop spinning so that I can continue walking; continue taking steps in the right direction. Suddenly amidst all the chaos in my mind one thing shone through clearly; the memory of me and Brittany, almost in this exact spot last year.

"_I love you Santana. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in this world…_

…_because of that I think that anything is possible."_

After a quick glance at Quinn and her nod of encouragement I take a deep breath and open the door. Whether it will lead to the future or take me back to a past life of fear I don't know; all I know is that there's no turning back now.

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><p><strong>Oh the suspense! What will happen next? I'll tell you… you're going to review! :D<strong>


	3. Trust

**Note: Sorry for the slow update guys, I've been buried in coursework and it probably didn't help that I kept being distracted by the rumour has it/ someone like you mash up, kind of makes me wish I hadn't made Santana leave the Trouble Tones…**

**Anyway thanks again for reading and please, please let me know what you think! :)**

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><p>"Quinn, I've already told you. I've changed my mind - I can't go through with it. Now let me <em>go<em>."

With barely one foot through the door I had already begun to panic. Luckily no one noticed us yet, everyone was grouped in pairs doing some weird activity that my brain couldn't register amidst the bombardment of a million nerve impulses, all bearing the same message; that primal instinct in the face of danger- _run while you still can!_ - And I was in danger all right.

Under normal circumstances when someone would melodramatically complain of their 'life being over', namely Rachel every time a musical got cancelled, I would tell them to get over themselves – usually with my fists. Yet my life _was_ about to be over, that is, the life I had carefully constructed for myself; the only one in which I knew how to survive.

Just thinking of all those protective barriers crumbling down around me almost brought me crashing to the ground with them.

Having hid my emotions now for so long, the combination of so many at once proved too much for me to take and it seemed I wasn't the only one wanting to escape; my heart was literally trying to beat itself free of my chest.

Was that pain I felt in my left arm? _Oh god I'm having a heart attack. _

"Santana stop being such a coward. Where's the girl who single-handedly took on the beast, otherwise known as Lauren Zisces huh? Or the girl who snuck in and trashed Sue's office after she threatened to fire Brittany from that cannon? The Santana I knew was always ready for a fight. But I guess she's gone and soon Brittany will be too… my bad, looks like she already is." Quinn added, turning away to look at something on the other side of the room.

I followed the direction of her gaze until my eyes found Brittany draped over Artie's chair - his hands on her were all it took to break me from my cowardice and begin to storm over there, catching the slight look of triumph in Quinn's face from the corner of my eye as I went.

"Sorry cripple-boy but Britts here is already taken." I smile sweetly taking Brittany's arm in mine, my corrosive tone suggesting the very opposite - that I wasn't sorry in the least. I walk her to the opposite side of the room before I round on her.

"What were you doing with _him_?" I chide, finding it too hard to restrain my utter dislike of Artie even though I know him and Brittany are good friends.

"I was just… wait are you jealous?" Brittany tilted her head in amusement, a small smirk playing out across her lips as she realised she had one over me.

"What, no! Look I just hate everything about the boy, he plays the cripple card _way_ too often and don't even get me started on the way he looks at you-"

As much as I was ready to throw out my best stash of handicap- insults I was stopped short by Brittany's finger lightly pressed to my lips. It wasn't so much the pressure that stopped me so much as the touch itself – Brittany always left me speechless.

I don't even know why I let myself get so riled up over Artie… besides from the fact that he had slept with Brittany and seems to think he can get away with acting like a black guy he isn't half as bad as I make out, especially after all his help with West Side Story.

"Santana, you can't just expect everyone to accept you if you're mean to them…"

"I've been trying to be nice to him, I really have, I gave him a bunch of frickin' flowers for christ sake!" I start, but how could I explain to her that some part of me will always hate him – the part that can never quite believe that she chose me over him; that I could ever _deserve_ her more that him.

She must've sensed the truth behind my words though as she simply gave up the argument and smiled. I look at her outstretched arms reading the familiar gesture to mean _I'm sorry, I'm all yours, _but as I go to embrace her she pulls back.

"No silly, you're doing it all wrong you have to fall _backwards_ into my arms, that's the whole point."

I open my mouth about to remind her that we weren't in some scene from Titanic when I notice the white board behind her head, with today's learning objective scribbled on it – _Trust_.

As I look around the room again, this time able to focus properly, I realise the weird activity everyone was doing was a trust exercise, the kind of which that only Mr Schue could find amusing.

I turned to face Brittany again with a look that didn't need to be explained – _You have got to be kidding me. _

"Come on San, you're even worse than my last partner and he can't even stand so I had to let him hold me in his chair and pretend it was the same thing..." _So that explains it._

"Fine" I huff, turning my back to her. "…but only to prove to you how much better I am than Steven Hawking over there."

I shiver as the brush of her hands at the loose hairs on my neck mixes with the sensation of her breath on my skin as she whispers in my ear, "I don't know what you're talking about but I know that I could never have anyone better than you."

A blush ran all the way up to my ears, burning at the exact spot of her touch. She moved her face closer and smiled against it as if she knew the tantalising effect this would cause and wanted to tease me.

"So how much do you really trust me?"

My throat suddenly felt dry, rendering me unable to speak and so I reply the only way I can: by closing my eyes and letting myself fall back into her arms.

When I open them again it's as if Brittany hasn't caught me after all and I've landed in an ocean; that's how beautiful and blue and _infinite_ Brittany's eyes were. Adrift in the ecstasy and honesty of her gaze I'm stuck with a sudden inspiration.

_Don't say it say it Santana you'll sound like an idiot, don't say it, don't say – _

"Guess what Britt?" I say, tilting my head to beam up at her.

"What?" she whispers back with a matching smile, yet I'm sure hers outshined mine in radiance.

"I've fallen for you."

We both begin to laugh; the passion within my sole needing to be released somehow, and I can't remember ever feeling so happy.

"I'm really glad you came back." Brittany stated simply once she'd recovered her breath, when what I really knew she meant was _I'm glad your doing this for me._

"Yeah me too." I reply and in that moment I meant it.

But a second later Mr Schue was calling the group back to the centre to sit down and the magic was broken, all the feelings of safety gone with it.

"So guys what has that activity taught you?" Mr Schue asks a little too enthusiastically as if compensating for everyone else's lack of interest, mine included: I had bigger problems to worry about.

I resume my usual spot at the back and cross my arms, whilst Brittany sits as far away from me at the front to hide any hints of our relationship, even though that seems pointless right now considering.

Despite what my outward blasé attitude suggests, sometimes I think the real problem is that I feel _too much. _

Too much love… too much hate… and right now in this moment, as I can feel my time running out as the tick of the clock pounds in my ears, too much fear.

Nothing I did would ever be good enough for my expectations and therefore I always assumed it would never be good enough for any one else either. Then there was Brittany. When I was around her I actually felt good about myself, as if loving her was what I was made to do. My mind skipped in and out of these thoughts as I listened to the other glee kids joking around, like everything was normal.

_Could they even comprehend the inner turmoil I was going through? _

"I learned that I'm not the only one around here that's been putting on weight…Tina I think you should lay off the Asian food." Mercedes quipped to the amusement of all the non-Asians, Mike and Tina of course bursting into a heated argument:

"This is all your mums fault; I know she keeps hiding chicken feet in the salad even though I told her not to. Do you know how many calories are in those things!"

I stopped listening, too preoccupied with a thousand ridiculous scenarios in my head; of me jumping on my chair and singing my heart out for Brittany right there and then, or walking to the front of the room and dramatically pulling open my jacket to reveal a white shirt with those glaring black letters that spelt 'Lebanese'.

But they were just that – _ridiculous_.

To make the most important confession of my life was hard enough but to make it perfect? That was impossible.

But maybe I was just trying too hard.

"Ok settle down everyone… well, I have to say I'm a little disappointed that no one has anything serious to say but I guess you can use the rest of this week to think about what you've learned, so next time come prepared with something constructive to say." Mr Schue concluded, glaring at Mercedes as he gathered papers together as the session drew to an end.

Turns out its true what they say about the brain making a decision seconds before we consciously register making it because before I knew it I had opened my mouth and released words I didn't even know I had formed:

"Actually Mr Schue, I have something I'd like to say…may I?" I motion to stand up, my hands gripping the side of my chair for strength, the last thing I needed to do was add to my embarrassment by falling over.

"Sure go ahead" Mr Schue replies amazed at my unprecedented willingness to contribute and slightly weary of it.

It felt like I was taking my last steps; the closer I got to the front of the room the tighter the noose felt around my neck and the harder it became to breath.

_Since when were there so many steps? _

When I finally make it to the front I know where to start. I look down at my hands which are nervously kneading away at each other, the movement disguising how much they were actually shaking.

I sigh; _here goes nothing_.

"I know that I'm not always the easiest person to be around…" I take a deep breath, sounding out each word slowly as if by lengthening them I can eventually prevent them from coming out entirely.

"You got that right" I hear Rachel mutter before expelling a pained hiss as she's elbowed in the ribs by Quinn.

I glare at her before continuing, "… and so this exercise got me thinking…. thinking that you guys are all I have. The only people that I can trust. I realise that over the years I've done so much to lose your trust, I mean I've probably slushied most of you at least once, not to mention my espionage work for sue and dividing the club with the Trouble Tones…"

"Santana is this going anywhere?" Mr Schue questioned in response to the increasingly disgruntled looks of the New Directions. You can tell I don't confide in people often otherwise I would've known that it's never a good idea to remind the people your trying to convince to like you, _to accept you_, of all the reasons to hate you.

"My point is, that in order to earn your trust back I want to confide in you something that I've never told anyone else before…"

I find the strength to look up from hands; eyes frantically searching the rows of curious faces until I find the only one that can calm me, her blue gaze having the same effect as the sound of waves breaking against the shore. My eyes then dart to Quinn, rather than my fears of all I have to lose; her smile reminds me of everything I have to _gain_.

I glance between them both one last time before I say it.

"I'm gay."

I sharply inhale and for a moment I can feel nothing, save for that goddamn ticking and an all encompassing silence that had enshrouded the room, as if I had sucked the life out of it. In that second I thought my wishes had been answered; that the ground had actually swallowed me whole.

No one moved or made a sound - even Rachel was too stunned to speak.

Puck was the first to react; I heard him stand before I saw him and when I did look at him, his face was a blank page and I feared the worst. Our long standing 'friends with benefits' arrangement was universally known around the school and soon the rumours would spread that _he_ had turned me gay. Much like me, Puck relies on his reputation - when this gets out it will be destroyed and he will never forgive me.

His footsteps echoed as he approached closer and closer…

_He was going to walk out… no, he was going to hit me._

I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact I was sure would come, when I'm surprised by a contact I hadn't been expecting – his arms around me.

That moment was like awakening from a coma to find the world was still there, welcoming you home with a lifetime of emotions. My secret was out and the floodgates of relief had opened; releasing my tears with it.

I don't know how long I had been standing there sobbing into Puck's shoulder, never wanting to let go after I had been so close to losing him, before I hear him whisper _I'm proud of you_ in my ear, which a moment later was ringing with an eruption of clapping and cheering; dispelling the silence and the fears it brought.

He releases me and turns to the rest the glee club, "I knew it, no straight girl could ever pass up all of _this_" Puck gloats motioning to his taut abs and flexed biceps. I shove him hard as he gives me a playful wink.

The next person I notice is Kurt. He had stood up and was clapping the loudest of everyone, I'm not sure whether this was due to the campness of his clapping or because he could relate the most but either way I didn't care and when he ran over to hug me I felt a sudden wave of gratitude, an unexplainable connection, that I hadn't felt since prom night.

"Just so you know, me and Blaine _one hundred percent_ support you and Brittany." he beamed at me, hugging me again before I could even be shocked that he knew we were together seeing as I hadn't explicitly told them. It seems with everyday I'm getting worse and worse and hiding and caring less and less about it.

One by one the rest of the glee club, _my friends_, filed out and showed their love and support, from Tina and Mike, to Quinn, to Mercedes, to Finn, to Blaine and even Artie – I could've hugged them all day. Even Rory looked pleased for me albeit he left rather quickly, no doubt feeling guilty and afraid of becoming a victim of my jealous rage again.

Then there was Rachel. Suddenly she stood before me, shuffling her feet rather awkwardly as if waiting for my permission to touch me.

"This doesn't change anything." I warn her, trying in vain to keep a threatening look on my face as I throw my arms around her, this time in friendship rather than in violence.

_Ah who am I kidding; this changes everything._

Once Mr Schue had also said his piece about how much I'd grown and how inspired he was by my response to his activity I hate to admit that it almost had me in tears again and I just didn't have the heart to admit that this really had nothing to do with him or his teaching. It was all about that certain blonde who was now making her way towards me.

Her eyes glistened with pride, happiness and the future as she took my hands in hers – they were no longer shaking.

"Hey you" I whisper, having nothing more that I needed to say.

"Heya back" she replies leaning forward to catch my lips in hers, as if sealing our new fate together. I could barely kiss back for smiling so much.

For the first time since joining glee I truly felt what it meant.


	4. The Calm Before The Storm

As the bell rang signalling the end of the day I practically flew out of the door. Thursday afternoons were the only time me and Britt spent apart and ever since she wandered off one time, managing to lock herself in the janitor's closet for a full hour before I found her, it has been a routine of mine to rush to the opposite side of the building to meet her and today more than ever I felt the need to be by her side.

In my haste to beat the after school congestion I brush past a freshman in the corridor sending the pile of books and folders she had been holding flying. I notice the look of fear in her wide eyes, as with realisation and horror, she takes in the golden complexion of my skin, the red and white stripes of my Cheerio's uniform and my dark hair scraped back into a high pony. As always my reputation preceded me.

"Ah oh my god, I didn't see you, I'm so sorry…" she began to stammer, too scared of experiencing the infamous rage of Santana Lopez first hand to even notice that I had bent down and begun picking up her things.

"My bad, here you go." I hand her books back, even offering up a small smile before I turn around and am gone; leaving her to gape in disbelief and confusion at the spot I had occupied moments before.

The Santana she knew would never apologise let alone help another student, but right now I wasn't that girl; I was too wrapped up in thoughts of Brittany to put any effort into living up to the schools made up version of me - the version that had been conjured in the minds of everyone since I first stepped foot at McKinley. It had only taken one prejudgement, one prejudiced glance at my confident stance to label me as the schools newest bitch and once word had gotten round no one could see past that image. If they had only looked closer they would have noticed the insecurity, the desperate need for popularity and acceptance, behind the supposed confidence but no one did; therefore all that was left for me to do was fulfil their expectations.

I became the monster my reputation claimed that I was.

Brittany was the only one that could differentiate between rumour and reality; the only one that got to see the real me. See that inside I was actually a nice person - _so nice that cotton candy would melt. _

I smile remembering a conversation me and Brittany had and how adorable she had sounded as she sung for me to stop the violence, _to stop letting the fake Santana take over, _and for that moment I did. But then I left the choir room, left our blissful bubble and re-entered reality. I tried to keep showing my nice side, tried to apologise to Finn, but when a bubble bursts it's lost forever and before I had even opened my mouth I was being accused of being mean again – it seemed as if no one wanted to see behind that commonly thought opinion of me and so why should I keep trying?

At least that's what I used to think anyway until Brittany taught me I need to have more faith in others, needed to trust people if I wanted them to trust me. That's why I had agreed to come out to the other glee kids, besides I knew it would make her happy. I just hadn't anticipated it making _me_ feel as happy as I did right now.

When I arrived at the corridor of Brittany's classroom she was already waiting, leaning against the doorframe, one of her legs bent at the knee with her foot pressed against the wall. "You're late." She spoke softly without even turning to face me it was as if she could just sense my presence. I slow my pace taking in the smile that graced her lips and the way her body seemed to relax now that I had arrived.

"Yeah well, better late than never and all that jazz." I return her smile, pulling her into a hug that lasted longer than I would usually allow in public, before linking our arms and walking us to our lockers to collect some things before we could leave. By the time we arrive at them I was buzzing and feeling a little light headed.

I pull a leather jacket and scarf out of my locker and begin to put these on when I notice Brittany is watching me. Her eyes hesitantly search my face before lingering on my mouth as she places her arms around my neck.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, instinctively knocking her away, the force of my actions overshadowed by the harshness of my voice. Suddenly the feeling of elation was replaced with panic.

"I just thought…you know, seeing how much progress you made today that maybe… you'd be ready…"

"Yeah well you thought wrong." My words seemed to silence the very air around us and as I saw the disappointment cloud Brittany's features I immediately regretted them. I hadn't meant for any of this but I couldn't stop myself.

Brittany slams her locker shut and goes to walk away when I grab hold of her wrist to stop her. No longer trusting my words I just look at her, willing her to see the pain and the fear behind my eyes, before I take the scarf in my hand and loop it around her neck, using it to pull her closer so that I can place a quick kiss on the tip of her nose before I tie it.

"There, you'll catch a cold if you go outside like that, we're walking to my house remember?" I didn't ask her this to really check if she had remembered our plans, Brittany never forgot anything, but rather to make sure she still _wanted_ to come after I had hurt her feelings yet again in my angst and paranoia.

"How could I forget?" Brittany smiles, taking my pinkie in hers to show her forgiveness and we walked together to the exits, instinctively dropping my hand as we step out the doors and into the bright daylight; Brittany says nothing.

Despite being winter the sun was glaring; its rays enveloped us, restoring all my previous feelings of happiness. We were walking so close that with each step our arms brushed and our shoulders bumped together.

"Why won't you hold my hand?" Brittany questions in a small voice after a while of walking like this.

I look down at the limp hands between us, all it would take is one tiny movement, one second to lace my fingers with hers - but this time there was no napkin. My eyes dart around in panic at the thought of doing it anyway; the streets were practically empty but on closer inspection even the gnarled, leafless branches of the trees seemed to menacingly point at me in condemnation.

I sigh, "I don't know Britt… can't we just stay like this for a bit?"

_Wrong answer. _

"Where are you going?" I call after her as she turns away from me and crosses the street, a look of steely determination on her face.

"How do you feel Santana? Right now, Truly?"

I didn't know what to say to this and am about to snap back a sarcastic reply when suddenly, for the first time since leaving the warmth of the school's corridors, I feel the biting cold of the wind. It was as if the sun had lost its strength or rather I had lost the sun.

I look down at my hands once more before replying in a small voice, "cold, lonely…empty."

I didn't know why Brittany had to make everything so difficult, why did things between us have to change? After all that's why I had sung landslide, so that she would understand how afraid I was of change. I mean, what if by making our love public we lose everything that was so special about it in private? Lost in these doubts I didn't even see Brittany cross back over the street and before I can object she grabs hold of my hand.

"And how about now…?"

It's funny how one simple touch can transport you back in time. As our skin connected I was filled with a giggly, fluttery, excited nervousness that I hadn't felt for years.

_We were thirteen when we held hands for the first time. _

_I mean sure we had held hands before, like when would skip out onto the playground after lessons or when Brittany would tell me a story and clasp her hands over mine in excitement, but never had it ever been like this. _

_We had spent the whole day at the park, Brittany had recently developed an obsession with ducks and so it had become on of our most frequent hang-outs. It was the height of summer and we sat sprawled out on a picnic blanket after having eaten the massive lunch I had prepared for us earlier. I had spent the entire morning cutting the crusts off bread and shaping the finished sandwiches into neat little triangles just the way Brittany liked it. _

_We were lying on our backs facing opposite directions so that we could both fit on the blanket and even so there was little room between us and we had to lie with our arms flat against our sides. It was due to this closeness that when I felt Brittany's hand brush against mine I thought it was an accident, but then it happened again. This time she covered mine completely holding our hands in place by hooking her fingers over the top of mine. It was electric. Was I supposed to feel like this? Did all friends hold hands and feel like it was the only thing keeping them held to the face of the planet as the world was spinning so fast?_

_I knew that this should've felt strange but it didn't, even in our awkward positions it was so natural and so I remained looking up at the sky, breathless, and convinced myself that this was normal. I don't know how much time passed like this but soon I became aware of the darkening sky, yet neither of us was prepared to move._

"_Can't we just stay like this for a bit?" Brittany whispered a hint of sadness in her voice._

"_Sure Britt-Britt, for as long as you like."_

_I didn't even care who saw us, all I could think about was the way my heart fluttered in my chest and how our fingers fit together so perfectly. We lay there watching the clouds until they turned to stars, all the while I remember thinking I'll never let go. _

So much has changed since then, when everything seemed easy and the most complicated thing I had to deal with was seventh grade math. But maybe things could change back. Maybe I need to embrace the very thing I'm scared of the most? Instead of constantly letting go of Brittany I needed to let go of my fears.

"Much better." I answer her taking a deep breath and I continue to mean it even when an old lady walking her dog crosses the road in front of us, her gaze lingering on or linked digits or as one of the dumb jocks from school drove past and wolf whistled out of the window.

Brittany had always said how much better things were with feelings; I guess she was right all along. Even the simple task of walking was made special with Brittany's hand cradled in mine, where the blood pumped from out beating hearts pooled at our fingertips, transmitting a thousand feelings between us; it was like walking on a cloud.

* * *

><p>As we turned the corner onto my road I was struck as I often was by how every house looked the same, with their trimmed front gardens, their spotless white-washed walls and expensive gates: I hated it. Truth is my parents are loaded and we live in the posh part of Lima Heights, the part considered as being the 'nice' neighbourhood; however I don't see it that way. It's near enough to Lima Heights adjacent that I figured I could get away with claiming to be from there instead to boost my bad ass- image and it made sense anyway, considering that I had spent most of my childhood there.<p>

I was exhausted by the time we had walked up the steps leading to my front door and the second we were inside I discarded my bag in a heap on the floor.

"I'm home… and Brittany's with me." I call into the house as I make my way down the hallway to the kitchen however my voice is met with silence. I notice a note has been left on the counter -

_Me and your father are both working late then going for a meal afterwards so we won't be back until late. See you in the morning, love you. _

Those last two words, inanimate and cold in ink, glared at me from the page, seeming like impostors in the absence of kisses. I didn't dwell on this feeling for long though as the thought of me and Britt having an empty house to ourselves comforted me. I show Brittany the note and she immediately mirrors my excitement.

"What shall we do? Oh let's have a movie night like old times!"

"Ok but first things first, let's get out of these uniforms into something warmer" I tell her, taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs as I notice her shivering.

"Brace yourself for this" I warn her as I open the door to my bedroom, revealing the bomb site inside. I'm not sure why my room is always so messy, I think I leave it that way simply to combat the unnatural cleanliness of the rest of the house. I keep a tight grip on Brittany's hand, navigating her around the debris of clothes, hangers and balled up pieces of homework that littered my floor until I'm sure we've reached safety. I hastily begin to make my bed and clear some of the clothing from the floor when Brittany stops me.

"Don't worry I've seen your room in a worse state, in fact I've often been the cause of such a state…" she laughs eyeing the screwed up quilt and cushions thrown on the floor.

"You have a point there" I grin, making a show to deliberately drop the clothing that was in my hands dramatically back onto the floor before tossing Brittany an outfit to wear.

"Promise not to look." Brittany instructs turning her back to me.

"But Britt, we've seen each other undressed like a million times before!" I whine exasperatedly yet do as she says and look away as her new found bashfulness was unbearably adorable. I change quickly trying not to envisage the blonde beauty stood mere feet away from me however the sound of discarded clothes proves too much for my will power to bear. I sneak a glance over my shoulder to see Brittany wearing nothing except a matching pair of black laced underwear.

I silently move across the room until I'm stood directly behind her, my breath giving me away as it brushes against her skin causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. I hear a soft exhalation of breath as she turns her head slightly towards me, the soft skin of her elongated neck catching the light. I reach up and free her golden hair from its pony tail which tumbles gracefully onto her shoulders enveloping me in the scent of vanilla shampoo, before I spin her around to face me.

"Santana… not now, I'm really hungry." Brittany protests against my wandering hands and evocative looks.

"Me too." I reply, my voice heavy with suggestion as I begin to place delicate kisses across Brittany's body, taking extra care to drag my lips across her skin, savouring the taste of her. I was crouching now, leading the trail of kisses over Brittany's toned abs when I feel her stomach rumble against my lips.

"You really weren't kidding" I laugh as I stand back up and tuck loose strands of hair behind Brittany's ears. "I'll go see what food there is lying around the house" I add as I walk away, tossing a t-shirt from the floor playfully at Brittany's head. I hear her begin to curse but her voice is muffled underneath the fabric giving me a chance to escape the room before she retaliates.

I continue down the stairs at a run taking them two at a time finding it hard to restrain all the energy from my good mood. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and Britts and I have the whole evening alone together. I smile to myself - _What could be better?_ However as I begin to root through the cupboards this smile vanishes.

_Great_, my parents had left me to fend myself with absolutely no food in the house - considerate as always.

"Sooo, whatcha' cooking me for dinner?" Brittany asks happily as she bounds into the room a couple of minutes later having adorned a pair of my jeans and a tight black top, both of which fit her surprisingly well considering our height difference.

"Well…" I hold up a cup-a-soup, a half eaten box of Ritz crackers and an easy make macaroni and cheese; the only edible results of my search. I'm about to suggest that we could just reheat the lasagne in the fridge left over from yesterday when I notice my dad's wallet on the side. My eyes dart from it to Brittany and back again before a mischievous smirk takes over my features and I hear myself suggesting, "Take out?"

* * *

><p>I groan as the credits begin to roll and I realise I'm going to have to get up. After deciding to order Chinese Britts and I had sprawled out on the sofa with a bottle of wine to watch Mean Girls, her favourite film, well besides anything Disney as I had point blank refused to watch the lion king <em>again<em>. I reluctantly open my eyes and force my head up from its resting place of Brittany's lap and am shocked at how much the room begins to spin.

"Where's the remote gone…" I slur absent-mindedly as I fumble around under cushions and the array of empty take out cartons and glasses that had accumulated around us - jheez we sure had made a mess. I quickly realised my search was futile and I slump back down against Brittany. My head was spinning and my mind felt shaken; wine has always been my biggest weakness, so combine that with a certain blonde's fingers stroking my hair and it's no wonder I couldn't think straight.

"Nice wig, what's it made of?" Brittany quoted with amusement as she continued to smooth and separate the strands of my hair where they had become knotted from hours of laying in the same position.

"Your mum's chest hair!" I could barely finish the retort before we both broke into incontrollable laughter; my chest was on fire from my oxygen deprived lungs and my skin burned where Brittany gripped onto my arms to support herself in her own hysterics. I would've happily burst into flames right then with Brittany melting in my arms for eternity if it meant this feeling of security, passion and _contentment _would never end.

"Here, you moved it away from us so that I wouldn't sit on it like last time and accidentally change the channel… although I swear it was Lord Tubbington and not me…" Brittany rambles on as she stretches to hand me the remote, but I'm too busy drowning in the blue ocean of her gaze to continue listening.

"Oh so I did… god you're so clever Britt" I stumble over my words, internally scolding myself and wanting to slap off the dopey, love sick grin that I knew was plastered on my face. It's the same one I always wear when I'm even the slightest bit drunk and my inhibitions are down and I cant help but blurt out every little compliment, every slight affection towards Brittany that when sober, would usually be constrained by my insecurity. I just couldn't help myself; she was that goddamn perfect.

"I know… I'm smarter than you that's for sure." Brittany replies with a wink, knowing how much it annoys me to be told I'm not that best at something.

"Oh really?" I retort with an arched eyebrow unable to not accept the challenge. I swivel around so that I'm sat on my knees facing her and lean over clumsily, so close that our noses almost graze. "What's 5x8?" I whisper seductively as I lean into her further, tilting my head and taking the lobe of her right ear between my teeth, sucking on it softly whilst my hands, that had previously sat limp at her side, began to slowly rub up and down the inside of her thighs. I notice the way her breathing begins to speed up and become ragged despite her biting her bottom lip to try and conceal it and I could sense her tense beneath me; it drove me mad. With difficulty I manage to maintain the sweeping motions of my tongue which had now moved down to focus its attention on Brittany's neck.

"Uh... um… I…58?" Brittany squeaked, clearly struggling to shake off my blatant distractions.

"Wrong." I snicker against her neck, never stopping the movements of my hands which crept higher and higher at a tantalising pace, much to Brittany's frustration. I stop my travelling hands as I scrutinise her face, which was flushed with red tinges - the colour of rose petals. She looked so damn cute when she was all flustered.

I'm about to tell her this when the words are stolen from my mouth by her lips crashing against mine. I trace my tongue along her bottom lip seeking entrance which is quickly granted, yet I barely had time to register her warm, wet breathe mingling with mine and the gentle massaging of our tongues before she pulls away.

"You know, I'm still smarter than you." Brittany muses cheerfully after breaking the kiss and removing my hands from her lap, lightly tracing the lines and crevices of my palms with her fingertips.

"Oh yeah and how do you figure that?" I huff, finding it hard to hide the slight hint of annoyance in my voice; no one disrupts me getting my mack on, not even Brittany - especially when it's _with_ Brittany.

"Because…" she took care to drag out every syllable; I had my fun teasing her and now I was getting a taste of my own medicine. "…5x8 is 40. I deliberately told you the wrong answer as I didn't want you to stop touching me." Brittany finished, grinning at me devilishly as I stare dumbstruck, unable to believe that I had fell for her act of stupidity.

"Who knew Brittany S. Pierce was such a good liar?"

"Well, I learnt from the best…" She looks down as she says this and a lump forms in my throat. Instead of being mad at her for bringing up one of our many 'forbidden topics' I just feel sad. The atmosphere around us was no longer carefree and light; it had grown heavy. I felt like I should say something but once again found myself unable to. Luckily Britt decided to speak first and break the awkwardness with her easy manner and boundless energy.

"Hey can we listen to some music, I'm really in the mood to dance!"

I groan, holding my stomach melodramatically, wearing my I-always-get-what-I-want pout as I complain: "Urgh, too full…hows abouts you dance and I watch?" I add with a smirk, leaning back onto my elbows in a provocative gesture that seemed to scream - _go on, I dare you_.

Brittany hesitates. I can see the cogs in her brain whirring and for a moment she seems as if she's about to refuse but then she grins that radiant smile of hers and her perfect lips form one perfect word: "Sure."

I watch her gracefully get up and walk across the room to where the speakers are, my ipod already being plugged in from the other night I had spent working on my vocals – it takes a lot of effort to sing an Adele song and pull it off and as much as I hate to admit that I care, I really want the New Directions to win this year.

My eyes linger on her toned legs and the assured sway of her hips and remain there until music floods into the room and she's stood before again, already moving to the beat and oh how she moves. It's not like I'm a bad dancer or anything but Brittany is mind blowing. She doesn't even have to think about her actions, she just _feels _and everything falls into place; I'm envious of her for that.

It's as if I'm watching her in slow motion; every bend, every twist, every gyration Brittany made seemed to blur before my vision unnaturally slowly. Every curve on her body was highlighted as she stretched and swept her slender arms through the air. My pulse was racing. I gulp, ok so maybe this whole me watching thing wasn't such a good idea… too… _hot_.

"We found love in a hopeless place!" Brittany sang every word with meaning and I'm not sure what took my breath away the most, her actions or her words.

_I swear if she flips her hair like that one more time I'm going to… that's it. _

Brittany has her back to me as my resolve breaks and I stand up, no longer able to constrain myself and move towards her until my arms wrap around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulders. We remain like that for a while, me simply holding her as Brittany slides up and down my body in time with the music, until she suddenly turns around, the sound of her laughter sweeter to my ears than any song ever could be.

"What's so funny?"

"You're just so predictable S." Brittany laughs again as she brings a hand up to stroke my cheek affectionately.

"What do you mean by that?" I question a little warily, I didn't like the thought of my actions being obvious for the world judge.

"I knew you couldn't resist joining me, that's why I agreed to dance alone… looks like I've outsmarted you again!" The joy in her voice was so infectious that I had to fight to keep it from showing on my face as I try to act annoyed.

"You missy, need to stop taking advantage of me when I'm tipsy." I scold but am unable to stifle a small smile creeping upon my features.

"You don't need to lie Santana… I know you want _this_ as much as I do."

I try to ignore the implication behind her words and shut out my thoughts by kissing her. Yet this didn't immediately transport me into a world of blissful oblivion as usual; there was something about her words that stirred something in me and I wasn't going to be able to let it go until I got assurance.

I break apart from her and hesitate before asking: "Britt… do you think I'm the Regina George of McKinley?" I avert my eyes to the floor, too anxious of her answer to keep them trained on her face.

"Don't be silly, you're not made of plastic! Well your boobs kinda are but I like them better that way… no, you're a Cady. A girl so scared of how others perceive her that she spends half the time hiding in the toilets and the other half pretending to be someone else."

I sniff, holding back the threat of tears as I squeeze Brittany's hand in a gesture that said - _thank you_. She smiles and as the music changes to an upbeat pop-rock song she raises my hand above our heads and spins me round, only to finish by bending me over and serenading me in sweet lady kisses.

"Oh I love this song, what's it called?" Brittany asks once she's pulled me back upright, practically jumping up and down in enthusiasm.

"Kiss me again."

She complies, although this time only giving me a chaste peck on the lips.

"There, but now you have to answer my question."

"That's the name of the song Britt" I smile, letting our foreheads momentarily rest against one another. As I close my eyes and let the lyrics sink in I involuntarily begin to sing along as if the words were written by me and the melody plucked from my very own heart strings:

_You're more than a friend  
>I knew it from the first sight<em>

Hold me feel my heartbeat  
>Put your arms around me<p>

And kiss me again.

I feel my eyes begin to sting with tears, which this time I couldn't contain - damn alcohol always makes me overemotional.

"I should've told you how much you mean to me a long time ago, I'm so _sorry_…"

"Hey shh honey its ok, all that matters is that you're with me now…" Brittany soothes, smoothing the hair around my face in a calming gesture. Her eyes meet mine, the intensity of her gaze making me weak at the knees as she finishes: "and that you kiss me again."

And so I did - again and again and again.

At first they were soft and tender; I wanted Brittany to feel every bit of emotion within me and I think she did as she would pause to kiss away the tears that remained on my face and I would feel the ghost a smile trace across my cheek, healing me of sadness. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me and I could feel my heart swell with _pride_. Yet pride must always have a fall.

It's a strange feeling to hold someone so close yet know they could be ripped away at any moment. It didn't matter how much I loved Brittany or she me; the hate of the world was greater and any day it could tear us apart. Whether it would be tomorrow, the next day or months from now I didn't know; all I can do until then was hold on tighter. I deepened the kiss in desperation, my movements becoming increasingly frantic as I let my hands travel up Brittany's body until they snake past the fabric of her shirt and over her toned stomach, their touch eliciting a moan from her that vibrated throughout my entire body.

"I'm so turned on right now." Brittany cried in between gasped breaths. I loved the way she expressed everything she felt even when it didn't need to be said; that was something I was never good at. In response I pull her towards me so our bodies are flush together and push her against the wall in one fluid movement; her hands around my neck and mine cradling the back of her head to protect it from the force of contact. Brittany takes me by surprise by fighting for control as she grabs the material of my shirt, bunching it up in her hands as she pushes me back onto the sofa.

I'm I laying flat on my back, my legs slightly parted so when she pins me down, her hands resting on either side of my head, we intertwine like two matching puzzle pieces. I made patterns across her collar bone with my kisses whilst her thigh which was resting in between my legs pushed against my centre until the pressure building inside me became unbearable and I could no longer breathe. I raise my head from the crook of her neck to look her in the eye and whisper, "You're so beautiful."

"Only because of you." she whispers back and shifts her body so she is completely straddling my hips, all her weight compressing down upon me.

I throw my head back in pleasure no longer in control of my actions, like the way I arched up into her, trying to eliminate all space between us, or the way our bodies would grind together to an innate rhythm, so synchronised that we must have been designed especially for that purpose; for each other.

Maybe it was because my ears were filled with the constant thudding of base and of heartbeats; of panted breathes and of pleasured moans. Maybe it was because of the alcohol in my system or maybe it was simply the way Brittany's hands had begun tracing light patterns along the small of my back…but for whatever reason, I was so distracted that I didn't hear the sound of the front door opening and closing.

I didn't hear my parents walking down the hallway.

The creaking of the sofa drowned the creaking of floorboards underfoot.

I didn't even register my dad's voice pleading for my mum to stop complaining about how he hadn't realised he had left his wallet until they had already ordered; all I could register was Brittany's voice pleading me _not_ to stop.

That's when it happened.

I will never forget the clang of his car keys hitting the floor as they slip out of his hand in shock as he turns round the corner of the hallway to see Brittany on top of me; a mass of messed up hair, swollen lips and the guilty expression that comes with being caught in the act.

All of a sudden everything became too much, too loud and I wished the music would stop playing and his heels would stop tapping against the floor as he stormed out of the room.

_Clap Tap and Clap, Clack and Tap, Clap. _

And then I see my mother; her expression is unreadable and her silence was the loudest thing of all. For the second time I find myself calling out to her but this time there was no meaningful, reassuring glance back at me. All I got was a blank stare before she followed my dad out of the room – before she turned her back on me too.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry it was a little longer than usual - to use another mean girls quote: "i just have a lot of feelings!" :D Remeber, keep reviewing as i really want to finish this story before the episode airs and if i get enough feedback I just might be tempted to stay up all night and finish it. :) thanks!<strong>


	5. Out

I felt numb, _paralysed_; it was all I could do to move a hand to cover my mouth to stop me from being sick – to stop me from _screaming_. I couldn't feel anything as Brittany unstraddled my hips, pulling me up with her and begun rocking me back and forth. I could see her lips moving, mouthing my name over and over again but I couldn't hear her voice; it was drowned out by my own.

_I can't believe this is happening, I can't believe this is happening, I can't believe this is happening…_

It was as if I had been transported back in time, back to Sue's office when everything had changed:

_I haven't even told my parents yet!_

My choked outburst echoed round my head as the crushing reality of the past couple of weeks hit me. Thanks to Frankenteen and his big mouth announcing my love for Brittany down the crowded corridors of McKinley, the school has become increasingly suspicious of my sexuality. But that's nothing new, ever since that rumour in The Muckraker about me 'spending too much time in the closet' I've been getting weekly pamphlets to join the golf club. Besides, the only plausible explanation for me not being crowned prom queen is that they _knew_.

Yet school isn't the problem.

I'm fine with people knowing my business so long as people like Berry keep their gigantic noses out of it and I've found that fear is the best deterrent for that. After the tape aired Sue, in one of her rare moments of compassion, felt so bad that she held an assembly on the politics of 'truth' involved in presidential campaigns - in that there is none. Maybe the fact that I kind of blackmailed her with the threat of me and Brittany leaving Cheerios if she didn't do something also played a tiny part in her uncharacteristic kindness, but that's beside the point.

The point is after a couple of days things died down and life went back to normal – that is, people staring at the floor in fear when they see me approaching rather than at me. As long as people were scared of me I could control their reactions into something _manageable_, something that doesn't make me want to change my name and move to Alaska.

But with my parents things were different – I was the one scared of them.

We don't have the conventional, close relationship that most families do and if anything I was more distant with them than anyone else. Those who you want to keep the closest are those that you push away the most. I suppose it doesn't help that they're both workaholics, which means I spend a lot of nights alone; or more correctly with Brittany. It also doesn't help that they share the same genes as me and most likely the same acceptance issues.

And then there's the curse of reputation; I'm not the only one to suffer from it, my dad does too.

He's one of the most esteemed surgeons in the whole of Ohio, respected and trusted by all his patients – the news of his lesbian daughter could change all of that. Even if he was willing to accept me, he can't influence the overwhelmingly prejudiced views of this stinking town so if it came down to it, he would side with them and his career.

These were the thoughts that were rushing through my mind as I got home from school that day, knowing that there are televisions set up all around the hospital showing 24 hour news coverage so my dad must have already seen the campaign footage. I remember how I tentatively walked into the kitchen as if the ground was layered with hidden traps that could explode with any step. It wasn't until I was sitting opposite my dad looking at him square in the face that I decided what to say; there was something about his posture that convinced me to lie, not that I needed much convincing - in fact I had gotten so used to lying I wasn't even sure when I was being truthful anymore.

The plus side of this was that I knew how to see through others easily. Like the way I knew my father didn't want to speak to me, that he was uncomfortable and _ashamed,_ just by the way he sat with his shoulders hunched forward and his whole body leant against the table, as if that extra weight was all that was keeping him from getting up and leaving.

So I managed to convince him that everything he heard wasn't true; that Sue simply had a personal vendetta against me because I had been slouching on my duties as vice captain and that humiliating me was her way of getting me back.

I don't quite know how he bought it, but then again maybe he didn't. Maybe he just didn't want to believe it could be true, like everyone else he didn't want to look behind my lies, which made it easier for him to simply pretend instead.

Maybe it's easier for us _all_ to pretend?

I'm not sure what broke my heart more; the look of _relief _on his face when I denied my sexuality or the look of _disgust_ when he discovered the truth. I couldn't look Brittany in the eye for fear of her reaction, the one I cared about the most.

To add to the rising anxiety and panic my insides began to burn with guilt; Brittany didn't deserve any of this. She deserved someone who could return her love, feel at home with, and take care of her; not a hot and cold girlfriend who can't admit her feelings, give her a welcoming home or even take care of herself.

"Santana say something" the crack in Brittany's voice was sorrowfully beautiful and all it took to break me from my reverie. I finally look up at her and we simply remained like that, communicating through emotion rather than words, for what seems like an eternity; wanting to soak up enough of the warmth, love and security from her gaze to give me the courage for what I was about to do.

"I'm nothing without you Britt. You know that right?" The quiver in my voice and the slight, involuntary way I tightened my grip on her hand were almost undetectable, but Brittany being Brittany noticed. She knew me better than anyone else and definitely better than I knew myself so it wasn't really a surprise when she replied with the only words I couldn't face but at the same time, the only ones I needed so desperately to hear.

"I love you too."

I let out a short sigh and with that one exhalation of breath a thousand different meanings are conveyed: _you make me happy, thank you for everything, I need you, I'm sorry… I love you. _I still wasn't ready to say any of that out loud and so all I could do is hope that when Brittany took a breath they would be carried to her soul. I wrap my arms around her in the familiar embrace that seems to map every turning point in our relationship, partly to conceal the stream of tears that were flowing from eyes but mostly because I needed to feel connected, _whole again_. As our bodies moved apart it was if the spell had been broken and all that was left was the feeling of empty, resolute reality. I clear my throat feeling strangled by the heaviness in my heart.

"Erm Britt…Would you mind getting me a glass of water? My throat feels as sharp as Rachel's pitch." I quickly add the insult onto the end of my request, knowing that Brittany would fall for it and take it as a sign that I was feeling better and slowly regaining the pieces of my self that had been lost. Sadly I wasn't even sure that was possible any more.

"Of course, anything you need."

The way Brittany's smile light up her face was like a slap to mine and I almost forget my escape plan and took her back up into my arms, wishing I could hold on forever, but then her words ring in my ears: _I love you too_. Brittany doesn't have the same fear of 'L words' as I do and it's this that makes me realise how unfair I'm being to her, how _selfish. _I stand up cursing under my breath at how messed up this situation had got, how messed up the world was.

Before I know it I find myself stood before a door, once again unsure of where it will lead me, whether I should go through it and whether its path is even the right one to take. I hesitate at the handle, the clinking of glasses from the kitchen urging me to make a decision but which do I listen to, my mind or my heart? All of a sudden Finn's voice rushes back to me:

_You know, I think I know why you're so good at tearing everybody else down, it's because you're constantly tearing yourself down, because you can't admit to everybody you're in love with Brittany and she might not love you back._

How can Brittany still love me now that she's seen what my parents are like? Seen that they'll never accept us? How can I let her keep loving me when all it will do is cause her pain? If I hadn't admitted my love to the glee club I wouldn't be in this mess. I should never have come out.

_You know what I think you are… a coward._

I lay my hand flat against the door, clenching my fingers and digging my nails into the wood as I let out a sob. I've been letting the words of others shape me for years so why stop now, I think bitterly as I wrench open the door and with one last look over my shoulder I run into the night, wishing I could just disappear into the darkness.

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><p><strong>Loved all the reviews for the last chapter - keep them coming! :) also next chapter you may just have a bit of Brittany's p.o.v to look forward to... <strong>


	6. Constant Craving

**Note: Sorry for the longer wait on this one! I've come to realise my original aim to finish this story before 'I Kissed a Girl' aired was just a taaad overambitious… xD my new aim is to be finished by Christmas, so keep reviewing and I'll keep updating! :) anyways I've tried something different with this chapter by interweaving both Santana and Brittany's p.o.v's and its loosely based on inspiration taken from constant craving (because lets face it, that song was incredible.) so yeah…as always please let me know what you think! :)**

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><p>I deliberately stall in the kitchen, pretending to be busy by running water, rooting through cupboards and loudly placing glasses on the side so that upon meeting the granite worktop they released a resounding <em>clink <em>across the room. I liked that noise. It comforted me with the illusion that I was being productive, that I wasn't simply biding my time until I had to face Santana again… face all of that hurt.

Right now she was in her bad place - the one place I can't follow her. I've never been strong enough to break through her defences and in situations like this it's usually best to give her space, to simply leave her to fight through it herself; if only I realised sooner that she was only fighting _with_ herself.

Santana is the strongest person I know.

I used to think that she could pull herself through anything but tonight something changed… the look in her eyes told me she had already given up and that scared me. As I held her motionless body in my arms trying to rock her back to life all I could think of was how useless I was. I didn't know what to do: Santana had always made the decisions. I let out a shaky breath as I lean against the side attempting to collect my thoughts. I close my eyes and try to imagine myself in Santana's shoes but it's no use. I was still in a state of shock at her parent's reaction and how they could be so unfeeling, so unsupportive in comparison to mine. Of course my parents hadn't always been accepting and I will always remember the time they had forbidden us from seeing each other.

_It was the summer of 5th grade. _

_My parents were worried about Santana having a bad influence on me. They told me that 'maybe it would be best if we spent some time apart', in that tone parents always use to try and sugar-coat bad news, making it seem like their mind isn't already made up when it so blatantly is. They kept mentioning words like 'exclusion' and 'suspension' which I didn't understand and quite frankly was too preoccupied with other words, like 'best friend' and 'forever' to care. _

_I spent the first two weeks of the holidays sulking in my room. I couldn't eat or sleep; all I could think of was how I hadn't had the chance to say goodbye to San before school ended and how she would think I was ignoring her - she probably hated me. It wasn't until I refused a trip to the zoo, my favourite place in the whole wide world that my parents finally gave in. _

_As the door rang the next day my dad opened it to find a slight, Hispanic girl gazing sweetly up at him from underneath eyelashes that fluttered nervously – this was not the girl with anger management issues and a serious attitude problem that he had been expecting and warned about by the other parents. After addressing him shyly Santana stepped tentatively into the house, only to stop when she saw me stood on the bottom step, still perched in anticipation from where I had rushed to answer the door._

_Did she just call my dad 'sir'? _

_I was giggling before we had even greeted each other, that strange sensation of nervous excitement bubbling inside of me, and by the time she had pulled me into a tight hug we were both in fits of laughter. The kind of laughter that meant everything and nothing at the same time – the kind that could only be shared between best friends or lovers._

"_I've missed you Britt-Britt."_

_It was whispered so quietly that I thought I had imagined it until I look up into her dark eyes; the remnants of her words still lingering there. Santana's every feature seemed to crinkle and twinkle under the pressure of pure joy and I'm sure I looked the same. _

_My parents noticed this too, the way my eyes immediately light up around her and couldn't help but smile with us. They didn't care to question how or why Santana had the ability to cheer me up in an instant when they had failed to do so all week; they didn't care that she had beaten up another kid for calling somebody stupid - they didn't even care that when I took her by the hand and lead her to the garden I held on a fraction too long. All that mattered was that she made me happy and for that, she was welcomed as part of the family. _

_After that Santana was round every other day. _

Now that I think about it we never played round Santana's house – perhaps if her parents had watched us grow up together as mine had they would understand.

A sudden draft snapped me from this reverie, making me aware of the unnaturally long time I've taken just to fetch two drinks and what was worse, I still hadn't figured out how to comfort Santana. With a sigh I drop a handful of ice cubes into her cup, just the way she liked it and head back into the living room, struggling to conceal the smirk on my face at the thought of all the times in the past where a handful of ice had been all it took to make Santana _feel better_...

I force myself to think of other things, innocent thoughts of skipping through meadows of flowers and rainbows, anything to distract from the tugging in my abdomen and how the temperature seemed to have dramatically increased. The thought of seducing Santana was hardly appropriate considering that had created this whole mess in the first place and as tempting as it was to command her attention in a way I know she can't resist I also know that right now she needs a different sort of comfort. The kind that can only come from cuddling and cookie dough ice cream – a ritual that has gotten me and San though the hardest of times. Extremely pleased with this plan I go to suggest it however the cheeriness of my voice is met by an empty sofa.

"Santana you had best not be hiding from me again, I told you just last week how much it freaks me out when you do that in an empty house!"

No answer.

The nervous chuckle that escaped my mouth at the thought of Santana jumping out from behind the sofa was quickly replaced by concern. I start to call her name again and that's when I notice the source of the strange draft. The front door was stood slightly ajar, all the warmth of the house escaping through the tiny gap only to be replaced by wintry blasts; that empty space being the only indication that Santana was ever here at all. Reality sunk into my consciousness at a dreamlike pace - she was gone.

Maybe my body had endured so much shock for one day that it had lost the ability to react anymore or maybe I just wasn't surprised to find her missing. After all it wasn't exactly unusual for Santana to run away from her problems, not that she's a coward, it's just her way of coping. She approaches every problem as if it were a bomb - she first has to put as much distance between herself and the explosion before she can assess the damage and put the pieces back together. I've watched this process a thousand times before but that doesn't stop me from beginning to panic.

What if the damage is too great this time and she doesn't come back? What if she gets lost or hurt? What if she hurts _herself_?

No she would never do that... but who am I to say what a person in desperation would do? How could I possibly understand how it felt like to be abandoned by your own family? I mean, hadn't I said myself that family was supposed to be where everyone accepts you, no matter what?

I grab my mobile with shaky hands and dial her number – still no answer.

It was if my mind was stuck on a loop, I didn't have any other solution so I just stood there and called her again and again and again; the tapping of my fingers on the keypad matched the rhythm of my incessant thoughts - _think, think, think._

"God Brittany why are you so stupid!"

I crumple to a heap on the floor, unable to contain old insecurities of inadequacy from resurfacing in the absence of Santana; the only person who has ever taught me to stand up for myself.

_It was a typical afternoon at Lima Elementary when Santana spoke to me for the first time. _

_I had taken up my usual spot at the back of the classroom for last period; I loved how the desk ran right next to the window and I would gaze out of it and imagine there were fairies and unicorns just outside, waiting for school to finish so they could carry me away. I was often caught up in such daydreams and slow to react when the teacher asked me questions, which is why I was teased for being stupid. I didn't understand why the other kids were being so mean and then because I couldn't understand it, I started to think that maybe they were right, maybe I was stupid. _

_I soon found that sitting by myself was a lot easier than making friends and so that's where I found myself, alone at the back of the classroom , when a particularly popular girl strides up to my desk, her loud and confident voice an unusual sound to the silence. _

"_Why do you always sit by yourself?" Santana Lopez stood before me with her arms crossed, a slight look of annoyance and sadness on her face which I couldn't quite place._

_I can feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion – no one had ever asked me that before. As usual it takes me a while to answer and I half expected her to leave as I tried to organise my thoughts but she didn't. When I finally reply, the words that leave my mouth surprise me – "because no one understands me."_

_Santana laughs and it's like nothing I've ever heard before which is strange as people laugh at me all the time. Yet something about this laughter felt different – rather than sounding mean it was warm and encouraging like we were sharing some private joke; like she understood me. _

_This is when I realise I know nothing about her. Well except that all the girls want to be her friend and all the boys want to hold her hand, which now that I've had the chance to properly look at her I can see why; It's as if she were a princess conjured up by my imagination, everything about her was beautiful – especially her eyes._

"_You're always by yourself too..." I point out, both proud at having noticed and at the same time scared of her reaction. For some reason things I say are always taken the wrong way and I really didn't want to ruin this friendship, or whatever it was, like I did everything else. _

_She just smiles and replies, "That's because I'm too good for all these losers."_

_Loser – another word often directed at me. I feel my heart sink and suddenly I'm confused again. _

"_But you're talking to me...?" _

_There was a long pause and I feared that she had just realised what everyone else must've been thinking right now as they watched the most popular girl in school talk to the outcast – people like us weren't meant to be friends. But then she surprises me again by sitting in an empty chair beside me before linking my pinkie with hers and winking mischievously - _

"_We're best friends." _

_Those 3 words are spoken so easily that I wondered how long Santana had wanted to say them and if I could do the same. I tried to but ended up forming 3 different words entirely._

"_I like you."_

_I frowned not sure where that had come from but Santana just smiled before speaking again, more cautious this time;"Don't always listen to what other people tell you Britt, unless it's me ok?"_

_I liked the sound of my name on her tongue but above all I liked the thought of having her around to listen to, to talk to - it meant that she was serious about being friends with me, something I don't think I'll ever quite believe. _

"_You really shouldn't care about what other people say..." She continues, "But if being called stupid bothers you that much then all you have to do is prove them wrong... here, for in case you ever forget." She hands me a pencil shyly with a list of multiplications written on it – maths questions were those I struggled to answer the most. _

It seemed Santana had been so intent on protecting me over the years that she never listened to her own advice. I don't know why this made me angry but it did and instead of being annoyed at myself I suddenly felt my frustration shift to her - I never thought Santana would be one of the people I'd have to stand up to.

How can she think it's ok to just walk in and out of this relationship whenever she wants? To give me everything I could ever wish for only to snatch it away. Why can't she understand that she doesn't always have to go through everything alone? That I'm scared too - scared of the future; scared for _us_. But that's normal in a relationship isn't it? We're supposed to be able to give each other or hopes and fears and in doing so, somehow end up ok - just being together is meant to be enough. I'm starting to worry that nothing will ever be enough for Santana. Maybe this is her way of saying she doesn't want to be with me, that I'm not worth it…

As soon as this thought enters my mind it's broken by the sound of Constant Craving playing from the ipod across the room that no one had thought to switch off. The familiar and comforting words transporting me back in time to when I first heard them from Santana's lips:

_I lay on my front, face buried in my pillow; eyes scrunched shut in an attempt to stop the tears building behind them from flowing. It was hard to accept that I was all alone again after holding Santana just moments before. I knew it was a bad idea to bring up being duet partners but I couldn't help it. _

_Ever since Puck was sent to Juvie we had been seeing each other like this more often. That was the excuse Santana was determined to keep anyway and so I played along; pretended that all the lingering touches, the whispered sighs and the beating of our hearts meant nothing. But there was a part of me that knew I wasn't just a replacement, that I meant more to Santana than that… I had to. And so it just slipped out, that tiny teeny implied possibility of us being a couple and Santana freaked out. _

_It's not like I had actually expected her to say yes to singing a duet with me but now that she hasn't I cant help the feeling of despair and disappointment tight in my chest as I try not envisage her walking out again. _

_As if by wishful thinking I hear my door creak back open and Santana is stood before me once more; her hands clasped together in front of her, eyes trained on the ground as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth and struggled to hide the partly bashful, party ashamed look that told me she was sorry – even if she couldn't. _

_I quickly go to rub my eyes dry, embarrassed for Santana to see me like this, to see the effect she has on me but before I know it her hands are on mine doing it for me; the heat of her skin, which burned a trail of red across my cheeks with every tender brush, enough to evaporate the tears from their surface. _

"_Britt you deserve better than me." Santana's voice was coarse and heavy after the long silence. I begin to protest but am cut short by a silencing finger on my lips. "I just can't be your duet partner…I can't take all the comments and the looks...but that doesn't mean I can't sing for you now though." _

_The quiver of her voice revealed a vulnerability that took my breath away and as she moved her hand down from my mouth, lightly tracing her fingertips across my joy until it came to rest under my chin, where it tilted my face towards hers, I could've sworn I stopped breathing entirely. With one swift movement she closed the gap between us, briefly giving me her breath before she took my hand in hers once more and started to sing. _

_I just lay there allowing the smooth, smokiness of her voice envelope me and her words sink into my skin, scared that any movement would disrupt this moment. _

_Constant craving has always been... _

_The lyrics reminded me of my first health ed. class where we learned about addiction and drugs; substances that once dependant on, become almost impossible to live without and to try would only result in overwhelming feelings of anxiety, desperation and yearning. I remember rushing home afterwards worried that I was addicted to Santana and would die. I explained how I had these feelings to my mum, terrified of what they could mean but she simply replied with a sad smile, "That's what it feels like to be in love."_

_I can't describe the effect of hearing those same fears coming from Santana now except that in that moment something changed irrevocably –it was in that moment that I understood Santana would never leave me, even as her hand slipped from mine._

Hearing that song again now calms me – it had given Santana strength back then and now it was my time to be strong too. My time to let her know that I would never leave her either. With this in mind I jump up in reckless abandon, instilled with the courage to follow her where I've never tried to before.

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><p>As I run through the streets the motion of my legs sets off the lights on the front of all the houses I pass; their constant glare reminded me of an interrogation room. The encompassing brick walls and high gates that seemed to tower over me everywhere I looked didn't help my sense of uneasiness either - I felt caged in and locked out at the same time; either way it was a feeling that I didn't belong. I try to ignore this growing anxiety by simply focusing on placing one foot in front of the other however this proves to be an impossible task when I can't even see two feet ahead.<p>

_Where the hell did all this fog come from? _I curse wondering how I'm supposed to clear the disorder in my head when I'm surrounded by similar chaos. With every minute that passed it became harder to just keep going – I wasn't cut out for this kind of thing, I didn't have Brittany's long, toned legs...

_No, don't think of Brittany. _

I shut out my thoughts and push on until I'm out through the main gates that closed off the private neighbourhood- until I'm free. I know that I can't keep running off like this, that I need to learn to face my fears like an adult but that was precisely the problem – I was scared of growing up. I felt like I had been forced into it too soon. I had been forced to deal with all these confusing emotions of love and hate, of Brittany; _of myself_. Everything had merged into this foggy mess in my mind and I no longer knew where she ended and I began... I didn't know who I was anymore.

And then there where my parents – they didn't know who I was either.

After they left I couldn't help but think that this time next year, when school will be over, Brittany will be leaving me too... I just wanted everything to slow down. Whenever I feel overwhelmed like this I find myself running back here to the place of my childhood. My eyes sweep over the surrounding park I had just arrived at; the swings Brittany always used to plead me to push her on, the slide beneath which me and Puck would sneak off to hook up and finally, the bench Britt and I were sitting on as we watched a nearby firework display light up the sky and kissed for the first time.

I settle for the swing set, hoping that upon resuming my favourite childhood spot, (Britt and I would always fight over who got to sit on the right swing but she would always let me win) I would somehow experience the feelings of contentment attached to that time, but it was no use; everything felt different in the darkness. I was a different person now and I got the bizarre feeling that I was imposing on my own childhood. I get up with a sigh, brushing my fingers tenderly over the cold chains of the swing before moving away into the place of another first for me; the place where Puck had given me my first cigarette.

The thought of smoking was repulsive to me; the bad breath, the yellow fingernails not to mention the lung cancer and early death. But I was still new at Mckinley and it was if Puck were handing me a cylindrical key to instant popularity and security that I couldn't turn down. I mean everyone was a social smoker right? Brittany however didn't seem to share this same nonchalance and when she found a half empty box of Marlboro lights stashed under my bed she went berserk. She upturned my entire room as if I were harbouring a fugitive. I told her it was no big deal and that everyone smoked once in a while to which she replied smoking kills in a serious voice that I hadn't realise Brittany was even capable of making. I'm pretty sure the look I gave her in return could kill too but I decided to keep my mouth shut as deep down I loved how concerned she was; loved having someone who actually gave a damn about me.

I root around the inside of my jacket, searching for a hidden pocket before pulling out the lime green lighter concealed within it. I told Brittany I had stopped which was practically true – I just kept this for emergencies. Besides what she doesn't know can't hurt her. I rarely ever use it anyway, to be honest I just enjoy flicking it on and off, watching the flame ignite and extinguish at my command; it gives me a sense of satisfaction and empowerment.

Yet tonight it only reminds me of my lack of control.

I toss it aside with an angry sigh, scowling and hugging my jacket tighter around myself as the cold night air begins to bite my skin - I hated the cold. I know if I stand still much longer I'll freeze to death so I leave the park at a jog, vanishing into the fog once more.

* * *

><p>I've been walking for half an hour now and still no sign of Santana.<p>

I've even been careful to check if a trail of crumbs or a ball of string had been left for me to follow but then again, it's not like I can even see the floor through all this fog. I feel myself shiver and I'm sure it's due to my anxiety rather than the cold; fog is my least favourite thing. Well besides hurricanes, those granules of coffee left at the bottom of the vanilla latte Santana buys for me every day on the way to school and cat poachers, although Santana tells me there is no such thing – probably because Lord Tubbington is her fog; I know she hates the idea of sharing me even if she won't admit it.

Anyway my point is it creeps me out. I can't help but think of how it reminds me of this horror film San forced me to watch with her once, where this eerie fog swept over the town and brought with it spirits of the dead. Granted I hadn't seen much of the movie as I spent the entire time hiding in her arms, which I'm pretty sure was the whole reason she made me watch it in the first place but still, Santana wasn't close to me now, I didn't even have the slightest clue where she was and for that reason I couldn't control the rising terror that was screaming for me to head back. I would usually give in but not tonight; Santana needed me. She has already been let down once and I wasn't about to do the same.

Spurred on by this resolution I close my eyes and begin to sing:

_Even through the darkest phase_

_Be it thick or thin_

_Always someone marches brave _

_Here beneath my skin _

I think of Santana and smile, knowing that wherever she is she'll be moaning about the cold. I let my mind wander to all of our lazy Sunday mornings, which would turn into afternoons, where we would simply lay in bed together savouring the heat of each other's bodies; huddled under the duvet we were protected from the chill of rest of the world. I imagine what I would say to her when I find her, somehow _I'm sorry_ or _I love you_ just didn't seem enough. Perhaps I won't say anything at all but rather let our bodies do the talking; let her know that we were made for each other through my embrace and the undeniable way our bodies fit together perfectly. Nothing that her parents or anyone else could say would ever change that.

I reopen my eyes to round a corner and can't help but smile at the park in front of me, a flood of memories rushing back; memories of picnics and fireworks, of a time where everything was carefree. This place meant a lot to me and I knew it did to Santana too and so it was with feelings of hope that I pushed open the gate and walked into the playground – _maybe Santana would be here!_

However it was deserted.

I'm about to leave when my foot comes into contact with something hard and I look down to see a lime green lighter illuminated under the moonlight; the very same one that Santana was convinced I didn't know about when really there is nothing I don't know about her.

I pick it up and hold on to it tightly as if it were a tiny piece of Santana, occasionally clicking it in the hope that like a deluminator it would show me the way. I know this is impossible and that magic isn't real but neither are leprechauns or unicorns yet I still pretend as if they are. I cling on to the hope that while they may not exist, all that they stand for does; courage, innocence and virtue. Without that hope, the world is too depressing to live in and without fantasies or dreams what else do we have?

Most people think I'm crazy but approaching life with such an open mind is what actually keeps me sane. If only more people would do the same and allow themselves to be completely free then maybe less people would be forced to run.

Besides sometimes I believe love is a lot like magic. It has the power to transform lives, perform miracles and make you do and feel things that you never thought possible. At least all of that is true of me and Santana but then again sometimes I think we're special. That's why our love is so hard to understand; so few people know what it feels like to have found the person they're destined to be with.

After all that's what Santana was - my _soul mate_.

That's the only plausible explanation I could come up with for how the fog had slowly began to disappear and how I had lost all sense of time and consciousness of my moving feet, which acted as if on their own accord and had suddenly come to a halt, stopping me directly in front of a particularly dishevelled but welcoming house. It's not until I take in the abandoned keg lying on the front lawn next to a scattering of some sort of cleaning equipment that I'm stuck with the realisation - I know who lives here and that Santana is inside.

I couldn't explain how I knew this I just did.

It's like how I know that Santana saves her most sarcastic remarks for the people she cares about the most. Or the way her eyes have a habit of dancing to and from the person she's speaking to, as if searching for someone else, when really it means she is searching inside herself. Or the fact that she always sleeps facing the door as if trying to prevent anyone from leaving her.

With one last glance at the lighter in my hand I brace myself to walk up the steps and knock on the door; brace myself for whatever I'll find on the other side.

The house I stood in front of was Puck's.


	7. Home

The glass slips out of my hand and drops to the table with a loud _clink_.

That simple sound sends a thousand impulses to my brain, each one bringing with it another ripple in the web of memories and feelings that, not content with simply forming a permanent lump at the back of my throat, seems to have now entangled its way around my heart. The clinking of my dad's car keys as they hit the floor, the sound of Brittany in the kitchen right before I left her, the click as Puck opened the door to find me tear-ridden and shivering on his doorstep... Each one bringing me right back to where I had tried to run from; where I've been trying so hard to run from all my life.

I reach again for the bottle of vodka that Puck seemed to have pulled out of thin air upon receiving my _does-it-look-like-I'm-ok_ look in reply to whether I was feeling alright. _Trust Puckerman to have a secret stash_. I smirk pouring myself another glass even though I've already had... hell I don't know how much I've had to drink, whether alcohol was my idea in the first place or if it was even a good idea. All I know is that with every sip, a protective blanket of haze that conceals the harshness of reality grows bigger around me and right now that could only be a good thing. I've had enough of harsh reality for one day; in fact, I've probably had enough to create my own trashy reality show - The plights of Lauren and Heidi aints got nothing on me.

Yet just as I finally begin to regain some semblance of calmness I notice how Puck has hardly touched his drink and how every few seconds he would take furtive glances over his shoulder and then back at me, as if I were a ticking bomb that could detonate at any moment and wake his mother sleeping upstairs. I didn't know why he was worrying so much. The sad truth is Puck's parents are even more non-existent than mine are.

It's funny, the burn of alcohol as it hit the back of my throat stung nowhere near as much as the thought that soon, this might not be true.

_Fuck em'_ I think bitterly before hearing myself saying aloud: "Fuck tha Police!" in what could only be described as an Indian- gangster accent and suddenly, I'm laughing uncontrollably. I hate to admit it but Finn was right, I really _am_ an over-emotional drunk and by the increasingly uncomfortable look on Pucks face, its clear he's only used to dealing with happy drunks like Quinn.

However I barely notice this as I'm trying so hard to focus on how I can hear Brittany in my laughter...

"_You sound ridiculous San!" Brittany laughs so much that it's impossible for her to remain sitting up straight. I watch her as she gracefully falls onto her back; the way her body rises and falls in between laughter makes her look like a feather blown in the wind. _

_We had been sitting on my bed for the past hour, surrounded by a scattering of discarded textbooks which created a fortress around us. Brittany was complaining at how boring revision was when I decided to take the book from her hand and begun to read it to her, adopting different accents for each paragraph. My intention of perking her up worked instantly and soon the sound of my voice was drowned out completely by the sound of her laughter, which was probably a good thing as apparently no matter what accent I tried to imitate it always sounded Indian. That's what I could make out of Brittany's gasped words anyway. _

"_Yeah... well you **look** ridiculous!" I reply, ignoring Brittany's squeals as I climb on top of her, messing her hair up as all the while I look down at her and think about untrue my words are. The mass of golden tangles before my eyes is the same one that I have woken up to many times before and the only thing that's ridiculous about it is how beautiful I find it. This thought along with the closeness of our bodies sends a blush creeping up my skin and I'm thankful that Brittany seems too preoccupied to notice, an adorable look of perplexity creasing her features. _

"_But you've never been to India have you?" It wasn't really a question, Brittany already knows the answer and so I remain silent and wait for her carry on, wondering where her train of thought would lead. _

_After a pause of consideration Brittany continues, nodding her head as if she's come to some great conclusion, "I'd love to go there one day. I mean yeah, there would be the whole not- being- able- to- eat- ice- cream- in –case- I- get- food -poisoning issue but on the other hand, there are cute baby elephants!"_

_I can't help but smile at her strange reasoning and the way her eyes light up in excitement – can't help but marvel at how she's always so full of life. _

"_I've heard they have incredible weddings, I'd love to go to one." Brittany continues at her usual break neck pace. "Maybe even have one myself..." she trails off, completely unawares as I have a mini-heart attack above her. I knew the comment wasn't even directed at me and yet I can't shut out the sudden pulsing of my heart; the picture of us standing barefoot on a beach, the colours of Britt's wedding dress merging perfectly with those of the setting sun as lean in to kiss her... _

As suddenly as my laughter had begun it stopped, only to be replaced by tears. I will never be the woman in that picture and neither will Brittany, so long as I have no one to give me away - so long as this stinking world remains the same.

Before I knew it and much before Puck could react I had stood up, the newly abandoned chair scraping loudly cross the floor at the force of my actions as I reach forward, grab Pucks face between my hands and roughly push our lips together as if trying to force a connection between us – as if willing myself to fall for him like I have tried to so many times in the past.

Deep down I know it's no use and as I break apart from him a question that's been hanging on the edge of my tongue for years escapes my lips in a broken sob – "_Why can't I love you?"_

"Don't." Puck spoke that single word with such compassion and authority as he pulled me into a hug and smoothed my hair so soothingly that my cries were halted in their very tracks. "You know how much I care about you S, I will always care about you - you were my first. But that time is gone, everything is different now, _we're _different now..." Puck begins but I struggle to keep up with his words as my mind lingers on what has already been said.

_You were my first. _Those words made me feel sick. They were the same ones Finn had spoken and god knows how many other guys... _Brittany should have been my first. _

"... but just because things are different now that doesn't mean they're worse. I was a train wreck when we were together- we _both _were. I would sleep with anyone and everyone just to feel something and you were the opposite, sleeping around to avoid intimacy and the emotions with it. When I think back on our relationship sure it makes me feel sad, ashamed, but most of all honoured. It's like being with you enabled me to understand myself... Don't you see? We prepared each other for something better - for true love. It didn't happen like I imagined it but I found that when I became a dad, with Beth, and I think you've found that too with Brittany."

I sink back to down onto the chair as his words sink into my skin and just like that we were sitting at the table exactly like moments before. It's funny how the world works sometimes, it was as if nothing had ever happened and just like that I feel a hope that I barely trust myself to believe rise in my chest – the hope that it wasn't too late for me and Britt. The hope that we could recover from this and everything could go back to the way it was before.

At this thought I almost jumped up and ran out of the door, back to my house, back into her arms, but then I remembered my parents and the fact that it wasn't just about me and Britt anymore. About secret touches under a table and whispered conversations – whether it wanted to be or not, the world was now involved and until I could learn to deal with that, nothing could ever be as it was before.

Suddenly I felt like a little girl again, small and scared – _I needed my parents to be able to deal with it._

It was a sobering thought but I didn't want to feel sober, I wanted euphoria... I wanted to feel _weightless _- usually alcohol would be enough to cause this but then again, I guess nothing is ever enough without Brittany. I sigh in frustration as I lay my forehead against the cool oak of the table, willing it to sooth the inferno raging just behind it. I could feel Puck's worried gaze as it bore into the back of my skull whilst he says something that I'm too lost to hear.

"Hmm...?" I murmur half-heartedly in reply without moving. I mean what was the point? Moving never does anyone any good. I move away and then come back again, she moves away and then comes back again and now my parents had joined in this game, but what they don't know and what I can't accept is that no matter what I do, what they do, I just can't shake Brittany from my skin.

"Damn it S look at me!"

This time Puck got my attention and as my eyes met his, all of the aggression left his face as he simply carried on quietly. "Look, if anyone knows about douchebag parents it's me ok. My dad was an alcoholic who treated me and mum like shit. That's all I really remember about him, besides the look on his face when I kicked him out and told him I never wanted to see him again."

"Puck why are you telling me this, I already k..." I begin before I'm cut short.

"Just let me finish. So yeah, what I mean is I haven't seen him since, not even in all these years. I don't know where he lives now, where he works, whether he's got a family or not... all I know is that I want to. Don't get me wrong, I can never forget how he treated us but my biggest regret is never giving him a second chance. Sure he was a total arsehole but he was my dad first. All I'm saying is don't make the same mistake as me – don't give up on yours as easily as I did."

The room fell silent and when I finally found the courage to break the stillness my voice comes out higher than I intended: "But you left your dad... mine left _**me**_." I manage to choke - No point concealing my weakness anymore.

Puck simply shrugs and I wonder how he can be so calm. "Doesn't matter. That just means he'll be the one crawling back to _you _for forgiveness. And knowing you, you're not going to make it easy for him – No one messes with Satan." He finishes by flashing me his trademark boyish grin that even now I can't help but find disarming.

"Wait... don't tell me that THE Santana Lopez is actually scared of someone?" He continues mockingly at which I punch him lightly on the arm and reply with more confidence than I'd felt all evening – "Never."

I laugh to myself and shake my head; I never really thought Puck could actually cheer me up but here we were smiling and joking like any other day. I suppose it will always stand that I'm a lizard and Puck is my rock – the only stable and constant thing in my life, which is ironic considering how many times we have called it on and off. Well not anymore; It's taken me possibly the worst night of my life to figure out that I want nothing more in this world than for Brittany to be my one constant, to never leave my side – I only wish it hadn't taken me to leave hers to figure that out.

A faint knocking on the door breaks through my thoughts and I'm reassured to find Puck as startled by it as I am. _Who calls at this time on a week day?_

"It must just be one of the guys from the pool cleaning business asking to borrow money no doubt... I'll be right back." He called over his shoulder as he left me stood there alone and totally unprepared for who I was about to see re-enter with him. Too shocked to form words I could only look at him, making an accusation with my eyes – _You called my girlfriend!_ Yet he just stood there and raised his arms in a gesture that clearly said: _I had nothing to do with this – not my problem. _

That's when I look at Brittany and it becomes clear to me from her dishevelled appearance how much effort she's taken to follow me here. Again words fail me. I could feel a thousand banging against the inside of my skull willing to be set free, _thank you_, _I'm sorry_, _I love you_ but none of them seemed to be enough. As it turns out I shouldn't have worried so much, for the first thing that came out of my mouth couldn't have been anymore unexpected or anticlimactic – "Erm Britt... where are your shoes?"

As I looked at her my eyes were immediately drawn to her bare feet, clad only in a pair of cliché Christmas socks with candy canes and ginger bread men. They looked as if an elf had thrown up on them. In fact they were so dirty that maybe that was true. I immediately felt 100 times more guilty (if that were even possible) as it crossed my mind that Brittany must have rushed out of the house after me in too much of a panicked hurry to even remember to put shoes on, despite the freezing cold outside.

I waited for her to reply but she didn't; her eyes simply searched mine over and over again for an answer that I feared she wouldn't find as the silence moved between us with such strength that I could've sworn the world had stopped spinning on its axis and time stood still.

_This must be the longest time someone has ever not spoke. _

When she still doesn't reply I feel a single tear slide down my cheek; the impulse to wrap my arms around her was unbearable but something kept rooted where I was. It was my time to let Brittany do the moving and eventually she did. The floorboards seemed to whisper and sigh beneath her feet as within a few swift movements we collided and the way her body crumpled into mine felt sweeter than it ever had before. Her hands where on my waist, on my back, in my hair... until at last they glided over my tear stained face in a single healing movement. This is where they remained as Brittany whispered in my ear:

"_For you there will be no more crying; for you the sun will be shining. And I feel that when I'm with you, it's alright... __**I know it's right.**__" _

I can do nothing but shake my head and Brittany looks heartbroken before I manage to get the words out – "You're truly amazing. I can't believe how smart you can be at times when I've been reduced to such an idiot." I laugh, the matching smile on Brittany's face dispelling any fears left within me as I carry on – "I know we're meant to be together. I'm sorry that it took me song long to let you know I know."

"San, I know you know that I've always known." Brittany takes my hand as she laughs at how much we were beginning to sound like something out of friends before finishing. "The fact that you keep things hidden, as much as I hate it, is also one of the reasons I love you. It makes it even more special to hear that you love me back."As to prove to her how much this was true I crashed our lips together in a kiss that was both so passionate and tender at the same time that I feared we would spontaneously combust from the amount of emotions souring between us.

"No need to stop on my account ladies" Puck grins obnoxiously when we finally pull apart and I'm about to scowl a retort when Brittany saves me the trouble by stating simply, "Come on San – Lets go home."

_**Home. **_Suddenly all of the fear came rushing back and Brittany must have noticed it flashing behind my eyes as she stroked her thumb across my hand in a comforting gesture that never failed to work. "I meant _my _house silly."

The thought alone of lying in Brittany's bed, where everything apart from us became insignificant, had me instantly sold but Brittany continued on with her case anyway.

"My mum's waiting in the car outside..." she begun slowly as if testing the water in case I was about to freak out. "I called her to explain where I was and what had happened and she rushed straight out of the door to meet me. Well, actually she wanted to see _you_. She was really worried about you San."

_She's worried about __**me**__?_ I look at Brittany; from her shoeless feet right up to her chapped lips and cheeks that where marked with dried mascara. Once Mrs. Pierce saw what I'd done to her daughter she would see that I was unworthy of such care. My feet were rooted to the ground in shame as I stare at the floor when suddenly I see them begin to move; without giving me a chance to protest Brittany had taken my hand and begun leading me out the door and down the path outside Puck's house.

"_Wait."_ I let her hand fall from mine as I turn around to say something to Puck who was watching us from the doorway but in the end settle for simply throwing my arms around him; the beat of my heart spelt out _thank you_ before I turn around to face the car whose headlights watched me relentlessly.

I don't remember much of the car journey. Well, apart from trying to hide the smell of alcohol from my breath and avert my eyes as I greeted Mrs Pierce who, taking no notice, pulled me into a crushing hug whilst she flustered, "For the hundredth time call me Annette".

I can also remember the feeling of overwhelming tiredness- maybe it was seeing the blue digits 01:12 illuminate the car dashboard that did it. Perhaps it was the comfort of the familiar scent of Brittany's home and the way her shoulder cushioned my head. Or maybe it was simply the alcohol. But for whatever reason, I had drifted off to sleep only to be awoken outside Brittany's house, where even my drowsy eyes could recognise the peculiar mailbox in the shape of a duck, the overgrown flowerbeds which seemed to burst with colour and joy and the worn welcome mat upon which I stood now.

In bold letters it read – **home is where the heart is. **

The warmth of the house welcomed me with its embrace as we stepped into the hallway; me leaning against Brittany for support – tonight she had taken on the role of the strong one and whilst I secretly liked being taken care of, I hoped that this little role reversal thing we had going on would change back soon. I mean as much as I wish I could, I can't simply stay here for the rest of my life – I'll have to find the strength to face my parents sooner or later.

It suddenly strikes me that we have school tomorrow and I abruptly turn to ask Brittany what I'm going to do without any of my things (as there was _no way_ I was going to get them now) but she'd already answered before I got the chance.

"Dont worry about school tomorrow San, I've got a spare Cheerio's uniform you can wear and we're in practically all the same classes remember so you can just share my books... if your nice to me that is." She finished with a wink.

"How do you do that Britt-Britt?" I ask my voice full of wonder.

"Uh... I just close one eye and keep the other one open... are you sure you're feeling alright San?" Brittany replies warily, clearly confused by my question.

"No Britt, I know how to wink! I mean how do you read my mind? It's like you always know what I'm thinking... I mean how did you find me tonight?" I finish remembering the way she had suddenly appeared before me, framed in the doorway of Pucks kitchen. It went against all odds and logic... as if by some miracle.

"I just know you." She replies simply with a shrug, placing a kiss on my cheek. I'm about to return this gesture in full earnest when the sound of Brittany's mums voice from the kitchen reminds me that we're not alone.

"Brittany honey, do me a favour and change the bedding before you and San call it a night."

"But mummm... it's just Santana!" Brittany whines dramatically, clutching tighter onto the arm of mine she was already holding as if this would prevent her from having to move.

"No buts missy or Santana will be sleeping on the couch."

Since me and Britt have 'officially' been together the time we're allowed to spend sharing a bed under this roof is well... virtually never. This and all the reasons why this is usually the case were implicit in Mrs Pierce's tone which was enough to send me a deep shade of scarlet and halt Brittany's protestations. I guess she assumed it was safe to make an allowance this one time as we'd both been through a lot and could really do with each other's comfort. That and the fact she probably didn't think we would be _doing anything_ tonight considering how tired we both were.

I watch Brittany begrudgingly walk up the stairs before realising I've been left completely alone in the kitchen with her mother; the only sound between us being the boiling of a kettle. To be truthful I was pretty worried of what she was going to say, in fact I wouldn't mind betting that she had sent Brittany off just so that she could speak to me.

"How are you Santana?" Her voice was soft and concerned; a voice that reminded me of my mother in a distant past.

"Alright now thanks Mrs- Annette... really, thank you for everything." I force myself to meet her eyes as I say this and I'm met with a sweet smile that left no doubt as to whom Brittany took after most out of her parents. There was a comfortable pause, as if she were contemplating whether to continue speaking and when she finally seemed to have decided, what she said next was like nothing I had expected.

"Did you know that every day when Brittany would get home from school she would burst into the kitchen singing and dancing?"

"No I didn't..." I stammer unsure of what to say.

"I used to wonder why that was but often it was pushed to the back of my mind as it was enough for me to just see her happy. That is until one day she stopped. I remember asking her what was wrong and she told me you two had had a fight over some assignment for that glee club she's always raving about and now you weren't talking to each other. Usually when a mother hears about someone having upset her daughter her first reaction is anger but mine wasn't; mine was _gratitude _for I realised that you were the one who had been making her so happy all this time. So if anyone should be thanking anybody it should be me for all the days that I've got to see my daughter experience love thanks to you."

"I don't know what to say..." I could feel a tugging in my throat and my eyes had begun to blur.

"Sometimes you don't have to say anything. That's what I told Brittany anyway back then when she asked me what she could possibly say to make you forgive her. I told her that if it's meant to be she'll come back to you – and tonight you did."

I was seriously struggling to hold back tears now as she continued speaking in a fluster that reminded me so much of Brittany; "I know this must be embarrassing for you and I'm sorry for that and this is the last thing I'm going to say I promise, I just thought that you should know so that you can understand that you will always have home here Santana."

Yet again no words seemed to be great enough to express what I was feeling but as I watched Brittany's mum leave the room, pausing at the door to give me a look of such understanding, I realised that it didn't matter. It was clear she had been right after all; sometimes nothing has to be said at all.

As I climb the stairs leading to Brittany's room I'm smiling as I think of how being wise must be a trait in the Pierce family but with every step this smile fades as it becomes harder to push my nerves to the back of my mind. I know it's stupid but it feels like years since me and Brittany had been alone together and I wasn't sure I was prepared for it but I'm already at her door, already pushing it open and that's when I see her perched on the edge of her bed waiting for me, a glass of water in her hand – as if I had never left her at all.

"Hey you" she breaths out in a sigh upon seeing me and I notice that she's nervous too – this time she needed me to assure her that everything was going to be alright and so that's what I did.

"Heya back" I smirk before kissing her fiercely until I feel her lips curl upwards against mine in a tell-tale smile and I know I've done my job. I go to pull away but Brittany pulls me back, buries her head in my shoulder and wraps her arms around me a little too tightly as if her body couldn't believe the messages it was receiving from her mind that said I was here and I wasn't going anywhere.

I don't know how long we remained like that but it must have been a while as when I slowly lowered her back down onto the bed so that she was under me she fell asleep the instant her head touched the pillow. I could tell by the way her shoulders rose and fell completely symmetrically and in sync, like calm waves breaking onto the shore with a sigh of relief after having travelled an entire ocean to get there - I suppose Brittany's evening had kind of been like that.

I tuck a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear whilst I press my body closer to hers and place my lips in a long kiss against her neck, so that she can feel me in her dreams, as I whisper: "_I love you like never before Britt."_

I observe her sleeping form for a moment longer before leaning across her to turn off the bed side lamp and lying there in darkness, I can't help wondering what the light of day would bring. I feel Brittany shuffle in her sleep next to me and smile one last time before sleep enveloped me too – _Whatever happens next, at least I'll have Brittany by my side._

* * *

><p><strong>Again sorry for the slow update : *hides face, I hope it was worth the wait! As always I look forward to hearing what you think :D**


	8. Together

My eyes fluttered defiantly against the pull of the morning as it tried to drag me from my slumber but it was no use and I gave in when the sensation of something brushing against my face became too much to ignore. Assuming that it was just Brittany's hair I snuggled closer to the soft and tickly entity, yet this close proximity brought a strange smell to my nose and with horror I realised it wasn't hair at all, but rather Lord Tubbington's fur.

_Erghh!_

I practically gagged as I rolled over and buried my face deep into the pillow as if trying to rid myself of the thought that _these_ lips had been _this_ close to kissing _that _skanky thing and that's when I felt something stick to my face.

I pulled the post-it note gingerly from my cheek, scowling as I wondered how this impromptu wakeup call could possibly get any worse. How in the world could Britt have even overlooked the fact that something like this had been left on my pillow in the first place? It's only when I noticed the pattern of love hearts scrawled across it in blue ink that I realised it must have been left intentionally – something we hadn't done in years...

_When she was younger Brittany used to sleepwalk._

_I would often awake during one of our sleepovers, which were practically nightly occasions, to find the spot where she should have been laying empty. It would scare me half to death; she could've fallen down the stairs and broken her neck or anything! Once she actually let herself out of the house and had to knock to come back in. It was past midnight. _

_So we made a deal, if she ever got up before me, for whatever reason, she would leave some kind of note so that I would know she wasn't sleepwalking, thereby sparing me from getting up in a panicked rush, terrified that she could be moments away from imminent death mere footsteps outside of the room. _

_Of course I was being stupid and irrational and just a tad overprotective but Brittany didn't seem to mind and so writing notes sort of became a tradition. That is until one day when she miraculously didn't sleepwalk anymore. _

_Brittany liked to think the notes were magic; I liked to think that she stopped having restless nights because she knew I was right there next to her to protect her. _

Enveloped in the warm fuzziness that fond memories leave behind I placed the note carefully to one side before throwing back the covers and swinging my currently dead-from-sleep-legs over the side of the mattress and making my way across the room with a slight limp as my muscles adjusted to movement again. I smiled as I noticed Brittany had already laid out her spare uniform for me which I quickly changed into before ambling into the bathroom next door, where the fogged up mirror and smell of Brittany's favourite vanilla shampoo told me that she had already showered - which meant that it must already be quite late.

I cursed myself for not getting up sooner as my mind filled with thoughts of me and Brittany; nothing between us but the caress of water and steam...

I hastily splashed cool water over my face to douse these thoughts and the sensation was surprisingly cleansing, as if I were washing away the remnants of yesterday, leaving me completely unbridled of burden - leaving me with the thought that today was a completely fresh start. At least getting up later meant that I could hide my morning breath, I reasoned cheerfully as I searched the shelf upon which there were three toothbrush holders, each with its own separate label; _Brittany, Lord Tubbington and Santana._

Regardless of how many times I'd seen it before it still baffled me how Brittany's cat had its own toothbrush - I mean what could he possibly use it for? It was just plain creepy. This disturbed feeling however never lasted long for it is instantly replaced by that of a contentment too hard to describe with words as I notice my own name. I didn't care that it was pretty much pointless as I would just share Britt's toothbrush half the time anyway - the fact that it was simply there meant the world.

I rushed to finish getting ready and I was already halfway through applying a second coat of mascara when the condensation on the mirror in front of me had finally cleared and I stop to survey my reflection.

_Who was I really trying to please?_

Brittany is always telling me that I look the most beautiful in the morning with my hair tussled around my face, where the only thing clinging to my eyelashes is the remnants of sleep; I'm always telling her that her eyes clearly haven't adjusted properly to the light yet. Even so I would humour her and stay that way all day unless we had school, whereby instead we would carry out the almost solemn ritual of brushing each other's hair and tying it back, all just to fit into the schools mould of the perfect cheerleader.

The more I studied my reflection the more silly it seemed to go through so much effort just to please a bunch of people that you couldn't care less about. Brittany loves the real me; the slight wave of my un-straightened hair, the creases beside my eyes that come alive when I smile...and that was the side of me I was going to show today.

If no one else liked what they saw that was their loss – after yesterday the only thing I cared about was making sure that Brittany would never be the one to lose out again.

Not wanting to wake Brittany's parents who were probably still asleep I sneaked downstairs, skilfully dodging the squeaky step third from the bottom. I knew Britt's house as well as my own – if not better.

With difficulty I managed to stifle the laughter that had begun to rise in my throat at the thought of how ridiculous I must look creping and tip-toeing about. It reminded me of when I had tried to sneak a slightly drunk Brittany in after curfew one time...ok so she was_ really _drunk... and maybe I was too... yet I can still remember the way we both stumbled and blundered about thinking we were being much stealthier than we really were.

Another time I had crept down these stairs was on Christmas Eve; fake snow which I would later scatter in the pattern of footprints in one hand and a plate of half eaten mince pies in the other – to me Christmas wasn't about the presents or the food, it was the look of wonder in Brittany's eyes as she awoke Christmas morning to find evidence that Santa Claus had stopped by. She wouldn't find out until much later that it had all been the work of _Santana- Claus_.

My mind was filled with thoughts of this and all of the other ways I could surprise Brittany this year as I walked into the kitchen and so it took me a moment to realise she wasn't there - instead my eyes are drawn to a breakfast tray that had clearly been left out on purpose. There were two slices of perfectly golden toast on a plate and next to this, a rather extravagant network of Lucky Charms that had been laid out in the shape of a love heart. I smile; _Brittany always got bored eating breakfast._

I was down to just the crust which I was absentmindedly dangling in front of me as I wondered where Britt could have got to when I suddenly felt it being snatched from my grasp. I spun around on my stool and suddenly I was face to face with the object of my thoughts, a look of utmost innocence played out across her features as if she hadn't just stolen the last remnants of my breakfast.

"Hey the crust is the best part!" I huffed with a fake pout on my lips before my eyes were drawn to hers and the trail of crumbs that surrounded them giving her away. "You've got something..." I lean in slightly and let my thumb finish the sentence for me as it grazed along her cheek, brushing away all the crumbs it passed and across her bottom lip, where I let it linger as I savoured the feel of them trembling beneath my touch.

I eventually managed to peel myself away and find myself picking up one of the love heart marshmallows between my fingers to scrutinise it before questioning Brittany, "What's all of this?"

"Erm breakfast...? Brittany replied child-like as if it was the most obvious answer in the world yet the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her and I knew she had deliberately misinterpreted my question.

"No, you know what I mean..." I hedged as I held the marshmallow above her head teasingly and almost failed to restrain a soft moan at how Brittany nipped at my fingers, tongue dashing out to claim its prise. I was pretty sure marshmallows weren't the only thing that melted at her touch and as if to test this theory I brought our lips together. Even though I had just eaten a new hunger arose within me and I deepened the kiss whilst Brittany's hands roamed through my hair - the sensation was intoxicating.

_Why hadn't I thought that wearing my hair down would be such a good idea before? _

"Come on we should get going..." Brittany pulled apart to remind me with some reluctance but before she could walk away I had enveloped her with my embrace once more.

"Mmm can't we just stay here?" I mumbled in between the kisses I had begun to place along her collarbone and up her neck before resting a hand lightly on her forehead and faking a look of concern. "I think being out last night gave you a cold... yep, you definitely have a temperature."

"That's because you always find me hot." Brittany replied with a wink and I suppose I couldn't really argue with that so I let myself be lead out the house, a feeling of sheer happiness running through my veins as she opened the door and the first rays of morning sunlight fell upon us.

"Heeey Mrs Lopez!" Brittany greeted my mother who was stood on her doorstep with her usual cheeriness and watching her, it was actually possible to pinpoint the exact moment when the events of last night dawned on her as the smile slowly slid from her face, as if running away in shame from the rising realisation that had crept up to replace the former curve with a tight line.

I could feel the intense gaze of my mother from in front of me and Brittany's from the side but I wouldn't meet either of them, choosing instead to direct my gaze up at a cloud that looked peculiarly like the annoying, fat- lump of a cat that woke me up not long ago. It's amazing the lengths the mind will go to just to temporarily avoid things that are difficult for it to deal with – mine seemed to be particularly adept at this as after all, I had fabricated a whole life in a similar manner, which I was only now being forced to face.

I heard my mother's breath before I heard her words; that sigh of a regret so dark and deep that it seems to seep from the very soul.

"It's ok you don't have to look at me. I don't deserve as much after turning my back on you... but please just hear me out."

_Could this really be happening?_

The tone of my mother's voice as she stood vulnerable and desperate before me was so sincere that I almost believed her apology but I wasn't ready to forgive her that easily.

_She would have to fight for my acceptance as I had to with everyone else. _

I hadn't realised that I was shaking until I felt Brittany's hand slide into mine, strong and steady and I kept my eyes trained on this as I prepared to take in my mother's words as she continued.

"I'm so sorry that I haven't been there for you... not just last night but for a while now. I don't know when it happened but one day you just became so distant, so consumed by some inner battle that I couldn't save you from... I have this wonderful, brave girl here to thank for that."

At this Brittany squeezed my hand as if to say – _See she accepts us! She really does love you no matter what!_ But even as my chest filled with hope I still wouldn't look up to meet her eyes. Not yet...

"As parents watch their children grow up they paint a picture in their head of who they're going to become - this idyllic vision that they can cling to when all else in the world is so messed up." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper as she spoke with a mixture of love and pain. "It's always hard to watch a child grow up, but when they don't follow these expectations it's even harder...I don't expect you to understand or even want to but that's why your father acted the way he did. You're father had to deal with that yesterday. He watched everything he had grown up with in the catholic household of his mother, your abuela, everything he had dreamed of these past 18 years vanish before his eyes with nothing to replace it but overwhelming shock..."

_My Abuela. _I felt my heart tighten at the mention of her name, the one woman in this world that I had ever truly aspired too.

_Could I really blame my father for being scared of disappointing her at what the daughter he had raised had become when that's exactly how I felt too?_

"... but shock goes away eventually. Just give it time and everything will work out... _Just come home._"

This time I did look up and in her eyes I saw something that both touched and terrified me. I saw that it didn't matter that I hadn't turned out the way she had planned because I had become so much more than she could ever have wished for.

Suddenly I felt too much pressure.

I could feel it radiating from Brittany's skin.

Vibrating through the air and pulsating in my ears from the intensity of my mother's gaze.

I needed to escape.

"We're going to be late." My voice caught in my throat as I grabbed Brittany's arm and practically dragged her down the drive with me, simply wanting to put as much distance between me and my mother as possible because I could no longer trust myself not to run into her arms.

* * *

><p>The walk to school was surprisingly normal after the initial roller-coaster start to the day.<p>

I knew that Brittany was deliberately ignoring bringing up whether I was alright or not as she knew how much I hated talking about feelings and stuff, yet I could still see the question in her eyes so just to console her I answered it anyway: "Don't worry; I'll talk to her after school."

I had said it instinctively; I didn't know whether it was the truth or not but the more I thought about the sincere and loving expression my mother had given me as I had turned around to look at her one last time over my shoulder the more I believed it was.

It was only when we arrived at school that things began to feel strange.

It felt as though an eternity had passed since I was here yesterday and so it felt weird to walk the same corridors and see the same faces; weird to see that life had carried on unaffected as normal whilst mine had changed so irrevocably. Yet I found comfort in the familiarity of Brittany's pinkie in mine as we walked to our first lesson and the next and the next.

By lunch time I was in a surprisingly good mood, I even told the glee kids that I had came out to my parents and they were ok with it – even if that was bending the truth slightly. With Brittany dancing next to me I was too happy to care and so I allowed myself to be lulled into the false sense of blissfulness that the glee club had to offer, at least for as long as I was in the choir room.

Little did I know that soon I would be brought crashing back to earth again.

The first time me and Britt were apart was after glee when she said she had to carry out some 'top secret official presidency business.' I didn't like the way she shuffled her feet and avoided my eyes as she said this but knowing how much she loved being class president I wasn't about to ruin her fun so I simply promised to wait for her at the lockers before looking around and placing a chaste kiss on her cheek as I whispered, "See you in a bit babe."

Even though I was disappointed in myself for still not managing to kiss her openly like any other couple could Brittany seemed pleased at this extra effort at public affection and so I watched her walk away with a small smile before my thoughts were disrupted by a sneering voice.

"Hey Lopez, I hope you know what a lucky girl you are, Brittany is quite the catch is you know what I mean."

I recognised that voice, it belonged to Chad Mathews, captain of the hockey team and even though we had never spoken before I didn't have to know him to know what he meant; it was quite clear what he was inferring to from the vulgar gesticulations with his hands and hips as he spoke with a smirk that made my stomach turn.

Sure, it wasn't exactly new to me that before Britt and I could accept our feelings of longing for each other we simply avoided them by taking full advantage of our social statuses; collectively we must have kissed every boy in this school and slept with the majority too. But still, his vile comments made my blood boil and when the girl, who I assumed to be dating this moron, bumped into the side of me roughly as she followed in his trail laughing, I literally saw red.

"You." They stopped dead in their tracks at the menace behind my voice. My hands were clenched into tight fists by my sides and I was shaking so furiously that it was almost impossible to speak but through gritted teeth I managed to finish. "Don't ever talk about Brittany like that... and _you_." I had now turned to the girl, my dislike of her heightened as I watched the way she stood there with one hand on her hip, the other stretching a piece of chewing gum from her mouth like a spoilt brat, daddy's diamond ring glimmering on her finger.

"I'm feeling charitable today so here's a bit of advice, _free of charge._" I smiled sweetly, revelling at the irony of my words considering her obvious wealth and how much my disregard of this seemed to piss her off. "Don't be surprised when this charming specimen of humanity here leaves you when daddy's trust fund runs out after realising that you have no other redeeming qualities."

I finished with an arrogant and slightly threatening flick of the head, motioning to her now dumbstruck boyfriend as I turned around abruptly and begin to walk away. This time there was no need to fake the overconfident stride that I would usually adopt just for show as I was genuinely feeling pretty proud of myself – I hadn't lost control like Brittany is always telling me and to be frank, what I said was truthful. _Besides she fucking asked for it._

However before I had even completed my march of triumph I was stopped by the sound of a snide voice directed at my back, a coward's voice, and I realised it came from the girl who must have only just recovered enough from her shock to retort: "Yeah well that's quite the compliment coming from a _**lesbian**_. I think I would rather die than have someone like you find me attractive."

At this her group of friends, or rather followers, began laughing and chiding in with comments of support – _I know right. That's so true. Just imagine! How disgusting. _

_How **unnatural**. _

I don't know who threw the first punch. I can't even remember deciding to turn around - it was as if a switch had been pressed inside of me and there was no way of turning it off until their comments ceased to ring in my mind - the sound of slapping, screeching and shouting was the closest I would get to this. I was surrounded by a hurricane of swinging limbs and bags which with every second pummelled me more and more as I failed to keep up with my crowd of assailants but I didn't care. I could taste blood in my mouth but my body was numb. I couldn't give up or even feel anything.

I just needed them to hurt as much as I was on the inside.

So I carried on fighting even though I was so tired, carried on filling my head with the ring of clanging lockers and the scuffle of bodies as this was much easier to deal with than anything else. Even as I felt a pair of strong hands grip my shoulders and begin to pull me out of the mob I remained kicking and screaming: "That's how we do it in Lima Heights!" I shot one last meaningful glance in their direction before Sue Sylvester had dragged me round the corner and out of their sight.

"What's gotten into you? You haven't been drinking too much master cleanse have you because if you'd have read the fine print it's only been tested on mice and so I cannot be held accountable for any side-effects of aggression, minor black-outs or in the worst case scenario death, that you may or may not experience... wait, are you wearing Will Schuester's hair gel?" The merciless couch stopped her rant to slip in that one last comment as she notices my wilder than usual hair.

"What no! Look nothing's wrong with me, they are the ones you should be lecturing, they _provoked_ me-"

"Yeah well your behaviour of late is provoking me to want to take you for a test drive over a cliff to find out whether those airbags of yours actually work but somehow I've managed to restrain myself. First Finn and now this... you could be expelled."

_Shit._ I hadn't even thought of that.

Yet even at the thought of expulsion it wasn't me that I was worried about: If I was kicked out of school who would be there to remind Brittany of her timetable? Or fight through a sea of first years to get her favourite frozen yoghurt at lunch? Sure there would be the glee kids but no one else but me knows that to get Brittany to do maths she has to be distracted at all times otherwise she'll refuse to do it – not because she can't but because she gets bored easily and gives up. Usually I sing to her but I've also found out that reading the questions in a sultry Spanish accent also helps...

_No one else understands the way her mind works like I do. _

I could feel panic rising within me and all of a sudden the source of it became clear -If I got expelled Brittany most likely wouldn't pass this year and then I'd be going to college alone.

"I-I... I'll do anything you say. Just please don't tell principle Figgins!" I hated the pleading of my voice but I had no more effort left in me to hide it.

"Oh please, save the stuttering for a speech therapist Porky Pig. I thought you of all people would know by now that I'm a no negotiations kinda gal and unfortunately for you, I already have your fate planned out."

I closed my eyes and ran a hand over my face in anguish as if by refusing to face it I could prevent what was about to happen. _This is it. She's going to kick me out... I can't believe she's going to kick me out..._

"... For the next month you're demoted from co-captain to team mascot, whereby your main and only role will be to humiliate yourself as you have humiliated my reputation with your Ryan Atwood style antics.

"So you're not going to tell Figgins?" I couldn't believe it. I was so shocked that I couldn't even be bewildered that coach had made a reference to the O.C – maybe she was losing her touch.

"I thought that as a cheerleader you wouldn't need people to constantly spell things out to you but I guess I was wrong. No I'm not going to tell Figgins... but only because I have to applaud your handiwork: 3 black eyes, what appeared to be a broken nose and more ripped tights than in my blind grandmother's wardrobe - if I wasn't so angry at you I'd be impressed."

As if I hadn't already put myself in enough danger for one day without thinking I wrapped my hands around her and was surprised for the second time in a row as she didn't immediately fling me from her clutch. Instead a moment passed between us where I realise how much we have in common and how much we actually rely on each other – even if it is only for someone to take each other's anger out on.

Sue Sylvester has only ever given me one compliment before so I remember it clearly – _"If I were to ever have a daughter I imagine she'd be just like you... perhaps why that's why I've never reproduced." _

It was these words that I heard as she threatened me with a restraining order if I didn't let go of her immediately.

I watched her walk away mumbling something about pushing those girls down the stairs so that they wouldn't run to Figgins themselves and about what a great Samaritan she was when she turned around to say one last thing - "I'm glad to see that you can take care of yourself Santana."

As she disappeared round the corner and out of sight she was replaced by another familiar face who skipped over to me, bearing a massive grin until she took in my appearance.

"San what happened to you!" Brittany's voice was full of concern and a hint of anger as she traced the scratch marks on my neck that were still red and raw.

I winced involuntarily before trying to hide my discomfort. "It's nothing, really... it was my own fault. I shouldn't have let their comments get to me."

"This is not your fault! I shouldn't have left..."

"Hey, don't you dare blame yourself for this. Come on let's just get some lunch..." Desperate to just forget about it and have the day return to how it was before I linked our pinkies together and began to walk away but Brittany refused to move.

"Santana..."

Brittany had a serious look in her eye that I couldn't quite place as she went to continue however whatever she said was drowned out by an announcement blaring through the corridors: "McKinley seniors please head to the gymnasium for an emergency assembly."

"Perfect that's just what I need right now." I begin to grumble under my breath before I realise that Brittany was about to say something. "What were you going to say?"

"Don't worry, you'll see in a minute." Brittany smiled but it didn't reach her eyes which were still glazed with that strange grim determination I had seen moments before. It made me uneasy and gave me the feeling that something wasn't quite right, which was only reinforced by the fact we didn't speak all the way to the gym - Brittany was walking with such speed that I pretty much had to jog to keep up with her.

When we got there I headed to the bleachers but Brittany headed centre stage and took her position next to Kurt – _oh yeah she was president now_. Annoyed at the thought of having to sit alone I chose a seat in a corner, close to the exit just wanting this to be other with, yet I was instantly cheered up by the sight of Kurt doing his duty as vice president and fanning Brittany – a policy that I had made her enforce. However my smile falters as when everyone is seated, rather than principle Figgins Brittany herself began to talk.

_Something definitely wasn't right here. _

"I know that these annoying assemblies were one of the things I promised _not_ to do if I was elected president but this is an emergency. Besides its going to be the last speech I give..."

The confused murmuring of the crowd was nowhere near as loud as my own perplexed thoughts - _What is she doing?_

"Something happened today that made me realise I'm not cut out for this, I can't make a difference...but Kurt can." Brittany's eyes found mine in the crowd and for a second she looked at me as if I were the only one in the room before continuing on with renewed strength in her voice.

"He's your real president and he would've been elected in the first place if everyone wasn't so afraid of saying what they truly feel. Well I'm not afraid, and right now the truth is you should be ashamed of yourselves. Always bullying those who are different from you - those who you're scared to admit you have more in common with than you'd like. The truth is this is our last year. I campaigned to be president because I wanted to make the most of it but that was the wrong decision. Now I'm going to make the right one and you can too."

I watched in disbelief as Brittany stepped away from the microphone and offered it to Kurt whose mouth seemed to have frozen in the same comical 'O' shape as my very own. I was still struggling to comprehend what had just happened let alone the way my feet had begun to carry me through the crowd. I wasn't aware of ever standing up or even moving but the second I did it was as if a spotlight had turned to me –as if I had been transported back to Brittany's flashmob, the very moment that sealed her chances of being elected in the first place but now reality was distorted, and this time I was making my way through the crowd as if in defeat rather than celebration. As if she had never been president at all.

_She can't have just thrown that all away for me? _

Suddenly I was stood on stage next to her unsure of how to sift through the millions of questions running through my head; trying to find one that didn't contain me swearing or weeping.

Luckily Kurt drew attention away from us as he declared his first official act as president would be to ban slushies much to the crowds outrage, which wasn't surprising as half of them either belonged to the football team, was fucking someone on the football team or wanted to be – that's McKinley for you, in fact that's high school in general.

I pulled Brittany to the side in a futile attempt at privacy as I hissed, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to do this?

"Because you would never have let me..." Her voice was soft as she spoke and her eyes looked at the floor rather than at me which was almost enough to stop the anger rising in my voice as I continued. _Almost._

"Of course I wouldn't have let you! I mean, speaking as your campaign manager, whose hard work and effort better not have all been for nothing, what you're doing is strictly social suicide. And speaking as your _girlfriend_, what you're doing is insane as there is no one else in this world who deserves to be class president more than you do."

That last comment elicited a smile off of her which only enraged me further –_How can she be happy when she's just given up something she's been fighting for all year?_ _What was she thinking? _Unfortunately Brittany wasn't the only one to feel my frustration as more and more of the crowd had begun to take notice of the scene I was involuntarily causing. They watched us like animals hoping to see a fight break out, it was pathetic. Brittany seemed to notice this too and so when she continued speaking she did so in a discrete and infuriatingly calm whisper.

"Well I don't know what hard work your talking about as all we did was make a few posters and even that just turned into one massive glitter fight make-out session... and anyway, don't you remember what I said when I told you why I wanted to campaign in the first place?"

"Yeah sure, you said you were doing it because you wanted senior year to be special... but I don't see how that-" Brittany spoke over me before I could finish and now it was her time to sound angry which was always an imposing thing considering she almost never raised her voice.

"That's just it, you never see. Don't you think your being a bit hypocritical? How many times have you come rushing to my rescue and this one time that I want to return the favour, be the one saving_ you_ and you can't understand - you never let me protect you Santana."

_Woah when did this even enter the equation? _

For a moment I was silent as I pondered what to say, or rather how to keep me from saying what I wanted to; the very thing that compelled me down to her in the first place. But as the silence lengthened my resolve dwindled until I could no longer hold it back anymore. _Fuck discretion._

"It's not that... I just, I couldn't bare it if you gave all this up just for me!" I practically screamed and now everyone definitely was watching us.

"There I said it." I was whispering now even though there really was no point anymore as I had already done my damned best to fully expose myself."Your last year should be special Britt, so hows abouts turning around and explaining that this was all one big misunderstanding... say that you thought April fool's day happened every month or something."

"Wait, it doesn't? Anyway no, I'm not going to do that."

Her hand moved forwards as mine moved back. Her eyes shone light, open and free as mine were dark, concealing and rigid. Her voice was quiet and smooth whilst mine reverberated loudly - _exact opposites. _

"WHY NOT!"

Maybe it was my imagination but I could've sworn my voice echoed around the hall before leaving utter silence in its wake, the only other sound being the electrical buzz of the microphone that Kurt had shortly abandoned to observe us with concern. Or maybe it wasn't the microphone making the noise at all but rather everyone's frantic thoughts as they tried to anticipate what would happen next. Truth is no one could've anticipated what happened next, not even me– _especially not me. _

It started with Brittany's confident voice:

"Because honey, this is _our _last year, and the only way it's going to be special is if I actually get to spend it with you. How do you think we are going to do that if you're getting into fights in the corridors every day? Kurt can change that I know he can... so really, I'm doing this for _us."_

I looked into her eyes which were blurred with tears and it suddenly stuck me how selfish I was being – how selfish I've always been. Brittany was giving up something she really cared about just to be with me and I couldn't even let everyone know that I was proud of that because I was too goddamn afraid to kiss her in public? She deserved more than that.

"_You're not the only one who can make grand romantic gestures..."_

I practically purred in Brittany's ear without giving her time to do anything else but shoot me a perplexed look; the beginning of a question on the tip of her tongue. "Huh-" Brittany never finished her confused remark however, as my lips crash into hers and the world began to spin as if we had been transported back to sectionals, where we twirled and twisted together on stage until the crowd vanished and we could only see each other - only this time our hearts where doing the dancing. After what felt like an eternity we broke apart and for a second I thought that I had died for the room was so still, but then I looked around to see a hundred pensive faces staring back at me.

_Nope, still alive. _

Then I looked back at Brittany, the only face that mattered, and she was grinning from ear to ear - _exactly identical to me. _This gave me the courage to finish this thing once and for all, no more hiding, no more fighting.

"Yes Britt and I are together."

It felt like a massive weight had been exhaled from my chest with the expulsion of these few, simple words and this feeling of relief and comfort was only heightened by the sound of the New Directions, seemingly headed by Quinn and Rachel who had stood up on their chairs to cheer and clap, which broke through the silence of everybody else (and my remaining nerves) so that when I continued to speak I actually did so with a smile.

"I know that it may be hard for some of you to contain your jealousy at the fact that I'm dating the hottest girl in the school but if you have a problem with that well you can take it up with president boy here and I'm sure he'll be able to sort something out for you... say a lifetimes supply of detentions. Oh and one last thing, those rumours about me keeping razor blades in my hair - all true. S'all im saying."

"Erm Santana do I really have the power to do that?" Kurt whispered in my ear nervously as a ripple of fear at my words began to spread throughout the room.

"Don't take what I'm about to say the wrong way Lady Hummel as I still don't like the fact that your now president... but seeing as I can't do anything about that you may as well make a good job of it, so here's a piece of advice, cherish it - Fear is power. Who cares what you can or can't do, make them believe that you can do anything and then someone other than Rachel Berry may actually listen to you." I watched him as he gulped and nodded before turning to face the rowdy crowd.

"Y-yeah you heard her... and even if I can forgive you I'm sure Coach Sylvester won't forget any bad remarks about her favourite Cheerio and well, I don't need to tell you what will happen if you get on the wrong side of Sue..."

His words caused an even more apprehensive murmur than mine had which I observed slightly in awe before commenting under my breath, "Perhaps there is hope for you yet after all."

Soon the assembly had drawn to a close with principle Figgins practically escorting the rows out himself, probably fearing some sort of rebellion or mass riot that seemed to happen at every major assembly, yet this time everyone was too caught up in their thoughts or shock to cause a fuss and once again, Britt and I were the last ones left in the room.

"Shall we?" I suggested sweetly, holding my hand out and gesturing for Brittany to link pinkies with it before at the last minute I changed my mind and held my palm out flat, deciding that one finger just wasn't enough anymore - _I needed to feel every one of mine entwined with Brittany's. _

"I thought you'd never ask." She replied grinning as we walked hand in hand out of the gymnasium and into what felt like the start of a new year together.

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><p><strong>Again thank you so much for waiting reading! The next chapter is probably going to be the last in this story so I'd love your feedback now more than ever :) it would be great if you could let me know if you think this is good enough for me to write a sequel/ continue this story in time with the second half of the series?**

**Ayways I can safely say that if this reaches 50 reviews I could die happily... Just sayin' ;)**


	9. Afterword: Come To My Window

I tap my foot impatiently as I squint down at my phone to type a message; its bright screen the only thing illuminating my features, save for the faint glow of light flickering upstairs in the Pierce household that burned as if it were the last candle in a world of darkness.

"_Come on Britt open your window, I'm freezing my butt off down here!"_

I can literally see my irritated breath unravelling and unwinding, restless as I was, against the backdrop of black as it's expelled in the sharp puff of my annoyance. Being outside on cold nights like this, with nothing but an overcast sky and the somnambulant sigh of the wind will forever remind me of when I ran away from Brittany - It's hard to believe that almost a month has passed since then.

_Another month is going to pass if she doesn't hurry up..._ I think grimly as I grip the sleeves of my dark, perfect- for- sneaking- out hoodie tighter around me, still staring at my phone's screen, yet still no reply.

Smirking, I pick up a decent sized rock from the ground having decided it's high time to take matters into my own hands. I toss it up and down in my palm a couple of times as I imagine the sound it will make as it crashes into Brittany's window, however this is quickly overridden by the sound of a latch clicking open above me. I smile, or at least try to but my frozen features seem reluctant to move and so I'm relieved to find my legs still working as I begin to hastily scale the tree in Britt's front garden - the one that I had climbed so many times before, both in my child and adolescent life. That, along with the fact Sue had made us climb trees before in her medieval torture style of coaching meant that I was perched on one of the top braches within seconds.

_Oh and did I mention that I just really wanted to see Brittany?_

I navigate myself around with skill so that I'm directly facing the now wide open window which I'm beginning to crawl through when I feel my foot snag on something causing me to lose my balance and tumble inside, landing in a haphazard heap on the floor; my cheek pressed flat against the carpet, legs still half splayed in the air. At least my large rucksack which contained everything I needed for the first day back at school tomorrow broke the majority of my fall. But still, not quite the suave entrance that I had imagined - _Real smooth Santana. _

It's only when I hear Brittany's stifled laughter that I realise she's stood right beside me. "Are you just going to stand there and laugh or help your girlfriend up?" The anger behind my voice partially muffled by the carpet, partially by the fact that despite having just humiliated myself I was still practically giddy with joy right now.

"I think I'll take my chances and stick with the first option..." Brittany's mocking voice floats down to my crumpled form on the floor.

"Oh you're going to regret that..." My threat runs short however, as I try and fail to pull myself up from the ground.

_What the f-_ That's when I notice the strip of tinsel which had previously been hung on the windowsill wrapped around my legs, binding them together.

"Britt it's the middle of January! Why have you still got Christmas decorations up? You know that's bad luck..." I gasp in exasperation as I finally manage to free myself from its clutch and stand up once more; however my ill-tempered words are rebuffed by the taunting crease of Brittany's smile as I watch her lips reply mischievously through the darkness, "Yeah for **you** perhaps."

_That's it – she is waaay too smug about this. Time to remind her exactly who's boss. _

I lunge forwards, wrapping my hands around the nape of her neck which elicit shrill shrieks beneath their icy touch. I land on top of her on the bed and hastily cover her mouth. "Shh, we don't want your parents to walk in and see us like this do we, who knows what they might think..." I tease in a husky whisper, my hands tugging at the hem of her shirt; I had a hunch that she wasn't feeling so cold anymore.

I lean closer and capture her lips in a passionate kiss that instantly warmed my already racing heart that's pounding fuelled my pulsating blood, which throbbed and flowed through my veins with such intensity that I was sure in any minute they would collapse under the surge of that sticky fluid, so saturated with emotion and devoid of oxygen... I open my mouth against hers and rest it there for a moment, filling my lungs with her hot breath until my body is satisfied enough to carry on.

My vision is blurred amidst a haze of gold and porcelain and so I'm only vaguely aware of my jacket as it slips from my shoulders... then the sound of my shoes hitting the floor. Everything else seems insignificant, detached. Everything but the feeling of skin on skin; the way I could feel Brittany smile into the kiss under the serenade of my lips as our hands were left to their own explorations.

Everything but love.

Before I know it, we've somehow ended up lying next to each other under the covers, moonlight dancing in Brittany's eyes as she looks at me sideways from where her head lay on the pillow beside me – that silver effervescent glow that traced each and every one of her features triggers a memory, an ebullient rush of emotion, within me.

_Come to my window, crawl inside wait by the light of the moon..._

I hear myself sing before I feel my mouth moving, my voice barely above a whisper as it breaks beneath the laughter that I'm feeling too happy to contain.

"Next time you can come round mine." I smile and plant a soft kiss on her reddening cheek as she beams back at me.

Ever since I came out to my parents Brittany has been forbidden from sleeping round, in fact there's practically a no contact rule under my roof. So it's become a habit to sneak round hers, like tonight, and simply pretend to my parents the following day that I just left home really early in the morning to meet before school. Surprisingly, they haven't caught on yet.

Brittany has never been to mine in this way and so it was kind of a big deal me asking her too; I could see the worry in her eyes as she contemplated whether or not to ask the question that had arose from my unexpected invitation, a question that no doubt involved the one subject we don't often speak about, even now..."So how is everything at home?" She asks tenderly, breaking the shroud of comfortable silence that had formed in her contemplation, her bright eyes tentatively searching mine. I close them whilst I ponder the right answer and whether there was even a right one at all.

Truth be told, things were going as well as could be expected – better in fact. Sure, my abuela was still giving me the silent treatment, the stubborn woman that she is, but at least my dad was no longer ignoring me and whilst his words weren't always comforting, anything was better than silence. He never apologised, he was too proud for that, but I could tell that he was making an effort; he even invited Britt round for dinner...

_When I opened the door that night to find Britt's nervous face looking back at me it was as if she were meeting my parents for the first time and hadn't stood in that exact spot a million times before. I couldn't help but laugh as I took in her smarter than usual appearance; she looked more like she was dressed for a job interview than dinner. When I told her this she simply replied that she wanted to make a good impression, and that meant no unicorn t-shirts or rainbow hairclips. _

_I suppose I couldn't argue with that. _

_It wasn't until I took her by the hand and led her to the kitchen that I began to feel nervous myself - I remember thinking that the sizzling of hot oil on the stove sounded like the crackling of flames in hell. But then my mother noticed us and in the next moment everything else gave way to her crippling hug, my right arm still around Brittany as my left curved around her, enclosing us in a circle of protection. I quickly broke apart mumbling something in Spanish about how embarrassing she was but when our eyes met again, we were both smiling. _

"_You girls are just in time; your father is already sat at the table. Would you mind carrying the plates in dear?" My mother motioned to Brittany before continuing in a reassuring tone at the collective look of obvious hesitation on our faces, "Go on, I'll be right behind you with the food."_

_It turns out I had good reason to worry as it wasn't long after we were all seated until my dad had turned conversation into more of an examination. _

"_So what do you want to do after high school? You must have some sort of career plan?" He asked Brittany in the voice he usually adopted to speak with his patients, a voice that seemed as if it would be forever asking questions. I couldn't help but cringe. It was quite surreal to listen to knowing that my family had known Brittany for years but I suppose all fathers had to interrogate their daughter's dates whatever the situation, even if it was as messed up as mine._

"_Sure do Mr L, I want to become a professional dancer!"_

_At that I almost face- palmed; not only had Brittany made the mistake of addressing my dad by a letter of the alphabet, his biggest hate, but she also brought up his second biggest hate – performing arts. Luckily my dad wasn't in to politics otherwise he would've no doubt done everything in his power to make sure Sue was elected. He doesn't mind me being in the glee club as that's just a hobby (I'm yet to break it to him that I dream of becoming a singer one day – I'm taking it one confession at a time, wouldn't want him to have a heart attack) but for him, a successful surgeon, any career that isn't academic is a waste. _

_The room filled with an awkward silence and I had no idea how Britt was going to make her way out of this one. There goes our already miniscule chance at a blessing of approval I thought sadly as I looked down towards the table and my hand clasped in Brittany's under it, where it had been resting this entire time, which I squeezed encouragingly as if to say – don't worry B, I'll always approve of whatever you want to be. I'll always love you._

"_I mean, that's just the start of my plan anyway. What I really want to do is start my own dance studio for disadvantaged children. When I'm dancing it's as if all my problems disappear. I truly feel alive rather than worrying about living... and I think **everybody** deserves the chance to be a part of that, to experience that kind of freedom..." As Brittany's words trailed off I looked up in disbelief, my mum appeared to be on the verge of tears and even my dad's steely face showed the traces of emotion – that's my girl! _

_Things became less awkward after that, well at least Brittany began to relax and stop complimenting my mother's cooking and how clean the place looked – each time she did so I would almost throw up at how cliché she sounded. The only tense moment was when Brittany unknowingly used the last of the gravy which my dad had been eyeing up, oh and when she knocked over her drink whilst telling an animated story which marginally missed my mother's white blouse... ok so there were quite a few tense moments and so when everyone had finished I had never volunteered to wash the dishes quicker. _

_Brittany had insisted on helping me and all of a sudden we were stood in the kitchen alone and able to breathe again. I'm not sure if it was genuine amusement at how ridiculous the evening had been or relief at having survived but for whatever reason we were laughing manically; the tracks the tears left on my face had never felt sweeter. _

_Having eventually composed myself, I grabbed a dishcloth from the side which I used to playfully whip at Brittany before I gave it to her to do the drying whilst I washed; side by side with our shoulders brushing against each other as I handed her cutlery, for once I felt at home. _

I smile and reopen my eyes: "Fine. Everything's fine." I pause before continuing, "Sure the struggle is ongoing... but together we can get through anything." I finish somewhat bashfully as I repeat the very words Brittany spoke to me as we walked hand and hand up the steps leading to my house to face my parents for the first time after everything that happened. Back then I thought that it must've been the worst month of my life but now, seeing the joy in Brittany's face and being free to share that with her, without guilt, without shame, without worry, I can appreciate that it was really the best thing that ever happened to me.

Even so that doesn't make it any less terrifying.

I'm doing this thing where I'm trying not to lie (well to myself anyway, my parents don't count) so I'll just admit it; I'm pretty scared to go back to school. To say that I was dreading it would be too strong, maybe 'apprehension' is the best word to describe how I feel... it's just that I've never experienced what it feels like to be completely open, to have nothing to hide behind anymore... but then again if it feels like _this _I have nothing to worry about.

I snuggle closer to Brittany as she tells me that she was pleased and proud - sweet nothings that say everything to me. I let her words wash over me as I rest my head in the crook of her neck and try to lose myself in the curve of her body, the increasingly relaxed and rhythmic rise and fall of which betraying her tiredness, and so I whisper goodnight and wrap her arms around me as if I would never let go. But my body remains tense.

Brittany must have been able to sense this uneasiness however as after a while of lying in the darkness, sure that she had already succumbed to the grasps of sleep I hear her reassuring voice: "Don't worry about school tomorrow San, it'll be over before you know it."

At least it was meant to have been reassuring, yet something in her words caused a jolt of sadness to shock through my body, as if I was realising some unavoidable truth for the first time: In six short months school will be over. The past will have to pave way for the future and where will that leave us? Leave _this_?

"Yeah it will all be over..." I hear myself repeat in a whisper as if to myself although I hadn't even realised I had consciously intended to speak. The words just seemed to come out as they voiced a fear that was so innate it seemed to have a life of its own - always that same fear of being alone.

Not only did Brittany miraculously hear me but she also understood what I was really trying to say_,_ as if her brain had the ability to break the code in the tremor of my tone to unlock the meaning behind it.

"Don't be silly, we have the rest of our _lives_ to be together."

Her gaze holds mine with such fierce sincerity, such painful innocence that I had to look away: I wish that I could believe this was true like she did.

I wish that I didn't need belief; that for once reality could become a dream instead of the other way around.

I wish there was a way to see what the future holds... but I suppose in the end, when you really get down to things, 'maybe' is all we have.

And so that's how I fall asleep; mind filled with hopes and dreams of forever that I know will be dispelled at the call of the alarm, with the space that they had occupied left empty and waiting to be fulfilled by all the possibilities and maybe's of the new day it brings...

_Maybe this year is going to be even better than the last._

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><p><strong>So it's FINALLY finished! Or is it?<strong>

**As I mentioned last chapter I'm up for doing a 'sequel' which will loosely follow the second half of the series if enough of you think that's a good idea? So before I start it I would absolutely love to hear any feedback you have, what you liked about this story/ what you didn't/ whether or not you want the sequel to be solely focused on brittana or more exploration of other characters...? Stuff like that :)**

**So yeah drop me a review if you want and again, thank you for reading and supporting me with your lovely comments and alerts! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it :)**


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